Falling Slowly
by RedHeadedFlame
Summary: Katniss Everdeen returns back to LA after six years away. Her stepmother is top of the charts and a famous blond painter is the most eligible bachelor in the country. Katniss struggles to find a place in a city that values beauty and success so highly.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**A/N: I'm back with my latest story! The prologue is short but you can click and read the first full chapter right away.**

 **Although this is an modern AU story some parts of it are very loosely based on the fairy tale, Snow White. Hope you enjoy this latest adventure and let me know what you think.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or any of its characters.**

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Prologue

 _Breaking News_

 _Country Music Legend Dead_

"We've just received the devastating report that country music legend, Heath Everdeen, has died. Ambulances were seen leaving the forty-six-year-old singer's Hollywood Hills mansion at around 3pm this afternoon. He was taken to hospital straight away but we understand that he was pronounced dead soon after arrival. Current reports suggest that his death may have been the result of an undetected heart defect and that he experienced a massive heart attack while at home."

"Heath Everdeen is the most successful country music star ever produced in this country. A cocky and handsome young man when he first started out, the Nashville native holds the record for most Grammy wins by a country music star as well as countless number one singles and albums. Even twenty-five years after his first released record he still pulls in huge crowds and generates huge album sales. His last album released, _Deep in the Meadow_ , was the second highest selling album in the United States last year.

"His death is likely to devastate his young daughter and wife. Heath Everdeen married his second wife, Cashmere Diamond, only thirteen months ago in a lavish ceremony in Hawaii. Diamond was twenty years his junior but Everdeen had been seen regularly supporting the beautiful blonde singer as she promoted her first studio album. The album was released a month ago and went straight to the number one spot. Diamond talked regularly about her husband in interviews and always praised Everdeen for his love and support for her."

"Heath Everdeen also leaves behind a sixteen-year-old daughter, Katniss Everdeen, from his first marriage to Lily Everdeen. Everdeen often spoke passionately about the love for his daughter and was very proud of her. His family were a big inspiration in his song writing and his most famous hit, _Mockingjays_ , was written for Katniss. More recently, Katniss had joined her father to sing on stage. Only last month they performed together at her father's show in San Francisco. Industry experts predicted the young Everdeen to follow in her father's footsteps and possibly eclipse his own success."

"Sadly this is not the first tragedy to befall the Everdeen family. It was only seven years ago that Heath's first wife, Lily, and their youngest daughter, Primrose, died in a tragic sailing accident while the family were on vacation. Little Primrose was only five years old at the time and their deaths devastated a nation. Everdeen relocated from Nashville to LA shortly after their deaths and removed himself from the public. He produced no new music for the first three years after they were gone. His former manager, Haymitch Abernathy, said their deaths almost destroyed Heath and it was only his other daughter that kept him going."

"But four years ago Everdeen made his triumphant comeback with a platinum selling album, a sold out national tour and an Oscar win for his original song, _The Hanging Tree_ , from the film _In the Seam."_

"Heath Everdeen was a talented musician that brought joy to many different people all over America. He was a passionate family man and our thoughts go out to all his family and friends at this terrible time. Heath Everdeen, America loved you."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

 _6 years later_

 _Katniss_

The car pulls up in front of the wrought iron gates and I look up at them with sadness and longing. The katniss, primrose and lily flower designs curl and wrap around the metal poles creating an almost enchanting feel. Dad always told me the flowers were a reminder than Momma and Prim were not that far away. He never thought about including a reminder of himself.

My friend, Johanna, turns to me with a sad smile as she sees me gazing up at the gate. She leans out the car window to punch in the security code.

She doesn't say anything as she drives me up the long driveway and to the entrance of the Beverley Hills mansion. Dad made sure that the main house was far enough away from the photographers' lens and surrounded the front with a canopy of trees that I believed was a fairy forest when we first moved here. I notice that many of the older, more decrepit trees have been chopped down and replaced with perfectly pruned cherry trees. The wildflowers that use to surround the house are all gone and now a pristine lawn reaches up to the steps of the house. My treehouse has been replaced by an enormous shiny mosaic elephant statue. I have to cover my eyes as the sunlight bounces off it and almost blinds me.

"You would think with all her money she would have hired someone with a bit of taste. I dread to think what the inside of the house looks like," Johanna says as we come to a stop at the entrance of the house.

I let out a long sigh as I duck and shake my head. My stepmother was always about having the most expensive and sought after things. It didn't matter if they were hideous or if she actually liked them.

"I think she waited about five minutes before she got the decorators in. She never did like Dad's taste," I reply.

Johanna shakes her head.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you? You don't have to face her alone," Johanna says.

I give Johanna a small smile but shake my head. She is one of my oldest friends. I met her on the first day of school in LA and after she punched a boy in the face because he dared to make fun of my name by calling me Katpiss. Our bond was almost immediate. Even after Dad died and I left for England she was still one of the few people I kept in touch with.

As a result, she is extremely protective of me. I've been crashing at her apartment for the last week as I have tried to gather up the courage to come here. I know she doesn't think I should come back to this house. Not with Cashmere living inside but I have to. This was the last place my father called home. I've tried running from it for the last six years and I can't do it any longer. My visa finally ran out last month, after studying for six years in England, and I knew I had to come back here.

"I'll be fine. She knows she has to be nice to me otherwise I'll kick her out," I reply.

"I can't believe you let her stay all these years. I would have kicked that prima donna bitch to the curb the second after your dad's funeral. She never really loved him in the first place. She just used him to promote her own career," Johanna says.

"It honestly isn't worth the fight. She'd battle me tooth and nail in court over it and I know that is the last thing Dad would have wanted. I've come to sort a few things out, say goodbye and then I'm going to move on with my life," I say.

Johanna grins now and slaps me on the shoulder.

"That's the Katniss I like to hear talking. I think you are finally in a good place," she says.

I smile at her gratefully before we both get out the car and she helps me unload my bags. I do feel less apprehensive about coming back here than I thought I would. I've accepted that my family are gone and try to remember only the good times and not the painful memories. It still stings when I think about them for too long but I am done living in the past.

Cashmere is still a thorn in my side though. As my father's wife when he died, she was left a fraction of his fortune and he specifically wished in his will for us to live together in this house. He married Cashmere because he didn't want me to be left alone and he never saw how much we despised each other. When it was announced that she was to be my official guardian until I turned eighteen I knew I couldn't stay here. I did a lot of stupid shit after Dad died but leaving Cashmere wasn't one of those things. I enrolled myself into a posh boarding school in England and took off, leaving Cashmere to live alone in the house I technically own. As much as I would like her out of my life for good, Dad's will has made it tricky for me to do so.

Johanna gives me another slap on the shoulder and makes me promise to call her for drinks later. I laugh as I watch her speed off down the track, leaving a trail of dust behind her. Once she is gone I take a deep breath and turn around to face the house.

The key still works and I deposit my bags in the entrance way as I take in all the changes. Immediately I am met by a huge, larger than life, portrait of Cashmere hanging on the wall opposite. It's clearly some high end fashion shot and her whole body drips with diamonds and the finest silks. Her eyes smoulder down the camera lens with her golden hair free flowing down her back. Her tan skin is unblemished and her long eyelashes frame her sapphire coloured eyes. There is no denying that she is beautiful but this picture is clearly there to remind everyone just how beautiful she is.

I shake my head at the picture as I turn to roam the rest of the house. There are reminders of Cashmere everywhere. Her awards and platinum discs line the walls and there are pictures of her on nearly every wall. I even spy a vase with her image printed on the side.

I've been told that she has been quite successful since my father's death, although her star never quite made it to England. Her catchy pop tunes and racy photoshoots made her one of the most recognisable and desirable women in the US. But Johanna says her star is fading. Her last album failed to hit the number one spot for the first time in five years and tales of her backstabbing are hitting the tabloids and internet forums. With younger pretenders rising, the demand for Cashmere is diminishing.

My dad's own achievements seem to have disappeared along with all the wood furnishings he favoured so much. The house is soulless now. It is all white with straight edges and not a single knick knack that makes a place a home. It makes me sad that she couldn't make room for at least one of Dad's things.

My mood drops as I continue around the house. I came back to get some closure but I now know that this is not the home I lived in. I'll try to salvage what I can of Dad's and then I am out of here.

I walk into the expensive marble kitchen to see if there is anything to eat in the fridge. Knowing Cashmere it will be filled with cabbage leaves and coconut water. However I am pleasantly surprised to find a nearly empty box of Lucky Charms cereal. Dad used to let me eat this cereal on family birthdays. A strong wave of nostalgia hits me as I take the box off the shelf and go to the fridge to find some milk. I stick my head in and rummage about until I find a half opened carton of milk in the back.

"You're a bold burglar. That's the last of my Lucky Charms," a male voice suddenly cuts through the air.

The sound of the voice catches me by surprise and I jolt and bump my head on a shelf in the fridge. I almost drop the milk carton but I manage to fumble it between my hands and grab it before it crashes to the ground. I hear the man lightly chuckle as I try to regain my composure. Slowly I turn round to face the owner of the voice.

I am met by the sight of a very attractive and very shirtless man standing in my kitchen. He wears only a pair of sleep pants that hang dangerously low on his hips and cause my eyes to dip down and linger on his well-toned abdominal muscles. When I look back up his sapphire eyes twinkle with smugness at having caught me staring at him and a grin plays on his lips. He raises a well-defined arm to ruffle the golden curls on top of his head and I catch sight of a dandelion tattoo on the inside of his tricep. I tilt my head to the side to try and get a better look but he pulls his arm back down to his side preventing me from a closer inspection.

I have no idea who this man is but he clearly spent the night here. He looks to be a few years younger than Cashmere, maybe only a year or two older than me, but I wouldn't put it past her to have a toy boy. She had no qualms having an older lover and now that she is in her thirties I can imagine her wanting someone younger so she can try and hold onto her own youth.

If he is Cashmere's latest beau he makes no effort to hide the fact he is checking me out. His eyes roam the entire length of my body, pausing momentarily to appraise my legs in my short denim cut offs, before pulling back up to my face and giving me a smile full of white teeth and dimples. His stare causes me to squirm and to tug on the ends of my shorts in an effort to hide myself. This causes the man to laugh and his presence suddenly begins to annoy me. By law this is my house. I don't want to be made uncomfortable in it by a stranger.

I roll my shoulders back and narrow my eyes at this man that is too good looking for his own good.

"It's not burglary if it is my house. I should be the one demanding to know what you are doing here," I say.

The man raises his eyebrows in surprise and then something must click in his head because his expression changes and he saunters his way over to me.

"Ah, that must make you my landlord, Katniss Everdeen. My sister will be disappointed. She had thought you had run off to join a cult or nunnery," he says.

I furrow my eyebrows further, still confused what this man is doing here. He must see my confusion because he smiles and sticks out his hand to introduce himself.

"Peeta Mellark. I'm Cashmere's brother and roommate for the last two years. It's nice to finally meet you," he says.

I reluctantly take his hand and eye him warily.

"I didn't know Cashmere had a brother," I state.

"Technically I'm only her half-brother. I was the result of the affair her dad had that ended her parents' marriage. I took my mother's last name, even though she disappeared when I was young. Dad was the one that raised me and Cashmere used me as her real life Ken doll. I've lost count of the amount of makeovers she gave me. Thinking about it now, I should probably tell her stop. I think I am old enough to tell her she can't put make-up on me," Peeta says jokingly.

I don't even give him a smile. I'm shocked to learn that a man has been living in my house these last few years without me knowing. It was bad enough that I was going to have to face Cashmere again but now it seems I'm going to have to deal with her equally arrogant younger brother.

"You weren't at the wedding," I state.

Peeta shrugs his shoulders before leaning against the counter and scanning my body again. I blush and look down, keen to avoid the prickle of heat that seems to crawl up my body as stares at me.

"I had just moved to Paris to start a prestigious painting course. I couldn't get the time off but I watched the live stream of the event. I personally loved the dove flying down to place the ring on my sister's finger," he says.

I snort and bring my head back up to look at him. The grin on his face tells me that he found the wedding as ridiculous as I did. Maybe he isn't as vain as his sister.

Peeta leans in closer to me and I instinctively draw back. I don't like strangers too close in my personal space and, with his shirt off, he makes me feel very uncomfortable. Peeta doesn't seem to be aware of this and holds my gaze as he speaks again.

"I did design the wedding invites though. It was my way of making up for the fact I couldn't attend," he says.

I remember those invites. They really were beautiful. The front of the invites had contained a beautiful painting of a sunset with two dark silhouettes standing watching it together. The mixture of oranges and pinks were blended so seamlessly together and there was something so poignant at seeing the two figures standing so closely together, as if waiting for their journey to begin. I am amazed that it was created by this cocky man in front of me.

"Those invites were beautiful," I say quietly.

Peeta grins and leans back again.

"Not as beautiful as your singing voice that day. I swear I stopped to rewind and re-watch," he says.

I blush again and begin twirling the end of my braid in embarrassment.

"People use to say that about my dad," I say.

"Well you certainly inherited his talent," he says with a kind smile.

I smile at him gratefully and think maybe I misjudged him. Just because he is related to Cashmere doesn't mean he is going to be as narcissistic and arrogant as her. However he stretches his arms out before leaning round me and swiping the cereal and milk out of my hands. He gives me a cheeky smile as he pours the milk in and eats a big spoonful.

"Thanks for making me breakfast by the way. Cashmere is never quite so accommodating," he says.

My annoyance comes back and I scowl at him. My stomach rumbles with hunger and I wanted that cereal. My best friends know that you never steal food off me.

"You are not as charming as you think you are," I say.

Peeta just grins again before he pulls out the chair beside him and pats the seat of it.

"You're cute when you scowl. Come and have breakfast with me and I'm sure we'll be best friends by the end," he says.

I just scowl at him again before turning and storming out the room.

I stomp up to my old bedroom and begin angrily putting unpacking my bags. Even my bedroom hasn't be saved from Cashmere's refurbishments. My pale green walls have been painted over in white with one wall painted a deep purple. My oak bed is replaced by a silver king sized bed with fluffy cushions and throw. All pictures, posters and books have vanished with only silver candles gracing the top of a chest of drawers. There is nothing to remind me of the years I spent here with my dad.

I manage to find some left over granola bars at the bottom of my backpack and munch on them as I think about the man I met downstairs. I was not prepared to meet him today and don't know how to feel about him. I decide to ignore him until I figure out what I want to do.

I spend a couple of hours in my bedroom unpacking and trying in vain to make it feel like home. I close my eyes to try and remember what it was like to have my dad sit with me on the bed as he told me the stories of the archery princess that needed no man to protect her. I didn't miss the fact that the princess was a brunette that always wore a braid. I wish now that I had convinced Dad to write them down. I can barely remember the many exciting adventures the princess went on.

Sitting in my room does not improve my mood and I force myself to venture through the house again. Cashmere has not made an appearance yet and I can only assume that she is still in bed. She used to always complain that Dad got up too early and was rarely seen up before noon on the days she was not working.

I make my way back down the stairs and enter the living room with the intention of searching the cupboards in there for some of my dad's old mementos. Unfortunately Peeta is stretched out on one of the white leather sofas holding a sketch pad in his hand. He looks up when he hears me enter and gives me a smile. He puts the sketch pad down and sits up straighter to greet me. I'm dismayed that he still isn't wearing a shirt, although he has at least now switched the sleep pants for a pair of shorts. The waistband of his boxers can just be seen peeking above the waistband.

"Do you ever wear a shirt?" I ask as I make my way round to the first set of cupboards.

"It's one hundred degrees outside. It's too warm to wear a shirt," Peeta replies.

I roll my eyes as I open the first cupboard and begin shifting things inside in search of anything I would value. Peeta watches me as my search becomes fruitless. I don't think I will find anything in here. I let out a heavy sigh and turn away from the cupboard. I meet Peeta's gaze and he smiles at me.

"I think you and I got off on the wrong foot. I'm really not as arrogant as you think I am and I would genuinely like to get to know you," he says.

"I don't think you're arrogant," I say but Peeta gives me a look that says he doesn't believe me. I drop my eyes embarrassed. "Okay maybe I do, but most humble people I know don't walk around topless everywhere making people uncomfortable!"

Peeta laughs and slings a bare arm around the back of the couch. His dandelion tattoo is displayed to me again and this time I get to appreciate the intricate design inked on his left arm.

"You're so pure. I have to say, seeing you so uncomfortable made my decision to stay shirtless much easier," he says.

"You're just proving my point!" I exclaim.

Peeta laughs again and the sound tickles my skin.

"I'm sorry. I'll stop. I swear. How about you tell me what's brought you back here? Where have you been the last few years?" he asks.

I look at him carefully for a long moment, unsure if I want to tell him, but the cocky smile has gone and he seems genuinely interested in my answer. I let out another sigh as I plop down on a chair opposite him.

"I've been away at school for the last six years. Two years at an all-girl boarding school and then four years completing my masters in geography," I reply.

Peeta nods his head impressed.

"I could never stick school. Unless it was art. My math teacher didn't appreciate that I drew pictures for all my answers to her problems," he says.

I shake my head at him before continuing on.

"Well it turns out there aren't many jobs for a geographer. It seemed like a good idea at the time because I was good at it but now I don't know what I want to do. And my visa ran out so I decided to finally come back and sort out things here," I say.

"What about singing? I bet your voice is still as beautiful as it was at Cashmere's wedding," he says.

"What are you? A careers advisor?" I reply.

Peeta laughs and shakes his head.

"I should hardly be giving anyone careers advise. I think dad was mildly appalled that his two children decided to be a singer and a painter. Not much job stability there," he says.

I let myself smile and Peeta seems to take pride in making me do so.

"I think you should do whatever you are passionate about. Whatever that is," he says.

I smile at him gratefully and get a glimpse of a genuine guy. Peeta smiles at me again before he scratches at a spot behind his ear and makes his tousled hair seem even more effortlessly messy.

"Are you planning on staying here permanently? Am I going to have to clear a shelf for you in the refrigerator?" he asks.

"You can keep the house. I'm just here to collect my dad's stuff. Then I'm out of here," I say.

Peeta's face seems to fall slightly at my words but I barely acknowledge it as I crane my neck to look around the living room.

"Speaking of collecting stuff, do you know where my sister's cat is? I couldn't take him with me to boarding school and Cashmere said she was looking after him," I say.

Peeta scrunches his eyebrows up in confusion as I continue to look for any sign of the mangy orange cat that my sister had before she died. Prim used to carry the cat everywhere and would sing him to sleep every night. Buttercup must be nearing fifteen years old now and he always hated me but he is the one little bit of Prim I have left.

"Cat?" Peeta questions.

I turn back to face Peeta but we don't get to talk further as we hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Peeta, what temperature did you set the AC at? You know I like it 68 degrees exactly," Cashmere's voice echoes through.

Moments later she appears in the living room wearing a burgundy playsuit with a stack of gold bangles on her right arm. He golden hair flows down her back with one side pinned back with a black jewelled hair clip. It takes her a moment for her to notice me but as soon as she does she straightens up, placing a perfectly manicured hand on her hip as she plasters on a smile.

"Katniss. What a surprise. You should have let us know you were coming. I would have rolled out a parade for you," she says.

She may be smiling but the sentiments behind her words couldn't be more fake. I'm the last person she wants to see.

"I did send you an email to let you know I was coming," I reply.

Cashmere gives me another fake smile as struts round to sit on a chaise lounge. She stretches her long, tanned limbs out along it as she relaxes down on it.

"I must have missed it. I get so many emails from fans that love me that sometimes things end up in the junk mail," she says.

I'm betting she deleted my email purposefully without opening it. Cashmere eyes slowly scan my entire body. Unlike with Peeta earlier, she's not appraising me, she's criticizing every flaw she sees.

"I commend you for this little hill billy look you've got going on. So earthy. Maybe next year it'll be back in fashion again," Cashmere adds.

I look down at my worn denim shorts and white t-shirt with a plaid shirt thrown on top. I don't know why she feels they need to insult the way I dress. I know I am not as glamourous or as beautiful as she is but then I don't try to be. Beauty is only skin deep.

I can sense Peeta getting a bit uncomfortable as he shifts about on the couch. He turns to Cashmere who keeps her gaze on me.

"Katniss is back from school. She's here to pick up some of Heath's stuff," Peeta says.

Cashmere lets out a light laugh as she turns to her brother.

"I put all that stuff in the basement. A lot of it is just junk," she says.

It hurts to hear her so causally dismiss my father's things and achievements. They may not be worth thousands of dollars but the personal value means so much more.

"You'll be glad for me to take it off your hands then. I hopefully won't be here for more than a couple of weeks," I reply.

Cashmere gives me one last fake smile before she picks up her tablet and begins scrolling through it. Peeta turns to give me a sympathetic smile and I grant him a grateful one in return. I turn back to Cashmere and clear my throat to get her attention.

"I was wondering about Prim's cat. Where's Buttercup?" I ask.

Cashmere stops what she is doing to turn to me with a quizzical stare.

"Buttercup? What cat are you talking about?" she asks.

My heart stops when I hear her words. She must know about the cat. She's supposed to have been looking after him for the last six years.

"Buttercup. The orange cat that my sister had when she died. You were supposed to be feeding him," I say, panic rising up in my chest.

Realisation dawns on Cashmere and she puts the tablet down to turn and face me properly.

"Oh, that ugly thing. I sent that thing to a shelter years ago. I have terrible allergies. He had to go," she says.

My heart drops to the bottom of my stomach. It was the one thing I asked her to do. My sister loved that cat so I had begrudgingly loved that cat as a result. I didn't think Cashmere would have been so callous as to get rid of him. I curse myself for not forcing her to give me updates on him. That cat was one of the few things I was looking forward to seeing again.

"You had no right to do that. How could you get rid of the last reminder of my sister?" I say.

I feel the tears threatening at the corners of my eyes and I sniff loudly to try and rid them. I won't let her see me cry.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise it meant that much to you. It's just an animal. It's probably dead now," she says.

She has no remorse as she says these things. I always knew she was vain but I didn't know she could be this cruel.

"You probably should have asked Katniss first, Cash, before you sent the cat away," Peeta pipes up in my defence.

I don't know why, but his comment only makes me angry at him. He doesn't know me. I don't need him to fight my battles for me.

"Keep out of it, Peeta," I snap at him.

He recoils at the force of my words and I almost feel bad. I sniff loudly again and I struggle to hold back the tears. I push the chair back abruptly and force myself to turn and face Cashmere as I look down on her.

"I know you didn't really love my dad but I'm just realising how little compassion you have," I say.

I don't wait to hear a response as I turn on my heel and rush up to my bedroom where I let the tears fall freely.

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 **A/N: Things certainly haven't been easy for Katniss in her life so far. And Cashmere will not make her life easy. But Peeta's there to balance things out!**

 **I'll update every Monday. Hope you are enjoying it so far.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to everyone that has already followed/favourited/reviewed this story. I am glad so many people are interested in the premise. This story will alternate between Katniss' and Peeta's POV so this is the first chapter from Peeta's perspective. Hope you enjoy.**

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Chapter 2

 _Peeta_

I watch Katniss flee the living room, her braid whipping round the corner as she disappears. My heart clenches at the sight and I wish I knew her well enough to offer her some comfort. Coming back to this house can't be easy for her.

Once Katniss is gone I turn back round to face my sister.

"You shouldn't have gotten rid of her cat," I state.

Cashmere sighs, rolls her eyes and leans back against the couch.

"She can't have loved the cat that much if she left it here. What was I supposed to do? I have allergies," she replies.

"Yeah, I'm beginning to think that you're allergic to compassion. You know it is okay to show you actually care about other people," I say.

"I care about you. You are my brother and the only one that matters," she replies.

I smile at her and shake my head. At least that much is true. Cashmere can be vain and a bit of a bitch towards anyone who gets in the way of what she wants but I am the only person she lets in.

Growing up we lived in separate houses. Her mother got custody in the divorce and, after my own mother disappeared when I was two, I went to live with our dad. Cashmere hated her mom. She was over critical and quite demanding about what she expected from Cashmere. It was only on a Sunday that my sister got a reprieve from her mom as she spent the day with Dad and me.

Sundays were her sanctuaries and the only time she got to act like a child. At first she treated me like some sort of doll. She'd dress me up and force me to play tea parties but she was always patient with me and didn't get mad when I messed things up. She became very protective over me and even punched a child that dared make fun of me because my mommy ran away. Sundays soon became my favourite day of the week too. I loved playing with my sister and following her in all the games she made.

Our close relationship developed as we grew older. Cashmere bought me my first set of condoms and offered me a place to stay when I came back from Paris broke and unemployed. I'm the only person she allows to see her without make-up and I try to help her keep a grip on reality now her career has made her one of the most famous women in the US. Though days like today sometimes make that a hard job.

Cashmere shifts slightly as she looks at me seriously.

"Everyone else just wants something from me. Including her. If she thinks she has come back here to sell this house then she's going to have a battle on her hands," she says.

I sigh as I lean back against the couch. Cashmere never liked Heath's daughter. She was jealous that Katniss always came first in Heath's eyes. She's not going to make Katniss' stay here easy.

"I think she just wants to pick up some of her dad's stuff and then leave. She doesn't seem vindictive enough to throw you out of the house," I reply.

Cashmere snorts as she shakes her head.

"Don't be fooled by those innocent eyes. She had Heath wrapped around her little finger. And she was certainly no angel when he died. You won't believe the amount of things I had to cover up from the press. And she never showed me any gratitude," Cashmere says bitterly.

I'm a little surprised by Cashmere's statement. My first impression of Katniss doesn't suggest she is some sort of rebel. A bit guarded maybe, but certainly not someone who would get into lots of trouble.

Cashmere seems to be losing interest in the conversation and she picks up her tablet to read the latest stories about herself. I sit staring up at the ceiling, wondering all about the mysterious girl upstairs.

* * *

The next couple of hours are quite relaxed. Cashmere seems to forget Katniss is here and Katniss stays hidden in her room. I work on some sketches for my next art show and Cashmere even looks over to give me some helpful suggestions on composition. However this ends up turning into a silly game of Pictionary as I struggle to interpret Cashmere's rather squiggly attempts of drawing.

We are in a fit of giggles over Cashmere's picture of a skateboard, that looks more like a picture of a certain part of the male's anatomy, when the bell for the front gates goes off. I wipe the tears from my eyes as I get up to go answer it and Cashmere picks up a compact mirror to make sure her make-up is not smudged. When I click on the video link I see Plutarch's car in the driveway. I quickly let him in and the door is open for him by the time he's driven up the long drive way.

Cashmere picks herself off the couch and saunters over to wrap her arms around him as they exchange air kisses.

"Plutarch! Always a pleasure so see you! Tell me you have got good news about the duet," she exclaims.

Plutarch Heavensbee is our manager. He manages everything from public appearances to record and gallery contracts. He was even the one who suggested to Cashmere that she should pursue a relationship with Heath Everdeen. Heath was under Plutarch's management at the time and Plutarch could only see the dollar signs that their relationship would bring.

He is a typical larger than life LA agent. His exuberance and energy make him a memorable figure in the city. His wardrobe only consists of clothes brighter than the sun and his bleached blond hair is always immaculately groomed. He may come across as a bumbling idiot at times but he is ruthless when he needs to be. I know neither my sister nor I would be as successful as we are without him.

He thanks Cashmere for her warm welcome and throws a greeting in my direction before steering us into the living room. Today he is wearing a bright purple shirt with yellow stars, something that is only emphasised by the stark white living room furniture. He settles himself down on one of the white leather couches and clasps his hands together as he plasters on a smile.

Both Cashmere and I take seats opposite him and Cashmere sits back against the chair, one arm draped over the back of it with her legs crossed in front of her. She waits patiently for Plutrach's latest news.

Her last single didn't do as well as expected and she is desperate to get back on top again. The label suggested a collaboration with the latest young heartthrob would help her get there. However I can tell by Plutarch's overly positive demeanour that my sister isn't going to get the news she wants.

"So we spoke to Cato's people and he really loves the song. He definitely wants to work on it," Plutarch starts.

Cashmere's eyes light up but I can sense the but…

"However he wasn't sold on working with you. He feels that his fans are younger and wouldn't be interested in a collaboration with an older singer," Plutarch say carefully.

Indignation flares in Cashmere's eyes and she purses her lips as she shakes her head

"Who is he to tell me that I am too old? I'm thirty-two and more attractive than any of those teenage yuppies the label keep trying to break out. He's just a silly little boy whose star will fade with his looks. He should be begging me for this collaboration," Cashmere replies icily.

The enraged look in her eyes tells me there is a fire brewing inside of her. I lean over to put a reassuring hand on her arm. Her eyes flick down to look at my hand but my touch does seem to douse the fire within her a little.

"Unfortunately the label agree with Cato. They want to pair him with Clove Matthews. They feel she is more relevant to his audience. You've lost the song," Plutarch says.

Cashmere barks out a laugh as she shakes her head.

"That girl? She has no talent or beauty. She's already gone under the knife to fix that nose and chin but nothing can change the fact she is an auto-tuned robot that can't sing live," Cashmere sneers.

"You've gone under the knife too, sis. You weren't born with those tits," I point out.

Cashmere snaps her head round to me.

"What is the point in bringing that up? You should be angry about this too. This is discrimination," she says.

"Cato is a douche and everyone in the business knows that he's on drugs. You don't want to link yourself with some idiot who everyone will have forgotten about in five years' time. You don't need to be mean and judgemental about it," I reply.

Cashmere narrows her eyes at me but my words do calm her down. Slowly she turns back round to face Plutarch.

"Let's move on. I'm still more successful and beautiful than those two will ever be. What else do you have for me, Plutarch?" she asks.

Plutarch gives her a big smile as he whips out his tablet and begins scrolling through his diary.

"The Cato thing is a blow but I've got you an appearance on Caesar Flickerman tomorrow night. He's even going to let you perform. I've already got Cinna on the case to put you in something hot and it's going to be great publicity for the next single. We need to start getting the song out there," Plutarch says.

Cashmere seems placated by this and leans forward to ask to see the email from Flickerman's people. He has the most watched talk show in the West Coast and an appearance on his show can double single sales. However Cashmere's eyebrows soon knot into a frown and she looks up angrily at Plutarch.

"I'm on first? Why aren't I headlining? Everyone knows the biggest stars go on last," she says.

Plutarch struggles to stay cheery and positive as he looks at my sister's angry glare.

"He'd already booked that actress who's in those space films. You know the one who doesn't have a filter and tripped at the Oscars. I tried to negotiate for you to be top billing but all the fans on social media are clamouring for her appearance," Plutarch replies.

The sound of shattering glass fills the room as Cashmere slams a glass onto the ground

"I am not second best," she says in a low growl. "I'm on last or I'm not on at all."

Plutarch looks startled and gulps as he glances at the broken shards of glass on the ground. I look at him sympathetically before turning to Cashmere.

"Take deep breaths, Cash. We all know you are better than that actress. And any publicity is better than no publicity. You'll be a hit on Flickerman. I know it," I say.

Cashmere looks at me for a long moment before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"You need to remind Flickerman that I know who he spent last New Years with. And it wasn't his husband. Maybe then I'll be top billing," she says calmly.

Plutarch nods his head before Cashmere leans forward so they can start discussing what to talk about on Flickerman's show tomorrow night. Another crisis seems to be averted for now but, as they speak, a slender figure appears at the bottom of the stairs.

I almost miss her because she comes down so quietly but I sit up straighter as she begins searching for her keys. Katniss' face is expressionless as she gathers up her things and she doesn't turn to acknowledge our presence in the living room. However she drops her keys on the floor and the clattering sound is enough to alert her presence to Plutarch and my sister.

Plutarch turns round slightly confused about who is intruding in the house. But this look soon turns to amazement as he catches sight of Heath's long lost daughter.

"Oh my goodness! Is that little Katniss Everdeen? We all thought you had run off to join a cult!" Plutarch exclaims.

"That's what I hoped," Cashmere mutters next to me.

I shake my head at her as Plutarch gets up to go round and get a proper look at Katniss. She looks mildly appalled to have been caught and stares at him with wide eyes as he crushes her in a hug. He then holds her at arm's length as he studies her carefully.

"You've certainly grown up well. I can't believe how beautiful you are. What fantastic skin and it's almost like I'm looking in your daddy's eyes when I look into yours. Cashmere, I think Katniss gives you a run for your money!" Plutarch exclaims.

I wince when I hear his words. Cashmere looks livid as she grinds her teeth while looking at Katniss. Plutarch is oblivious to it all and you can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work out how to make money from Katniss' return.

"It's nice to see you again, Plutarch. I see your shirts are as bright as ever," Katniss says politely, though her eyes flick towards to the door, suggesting that this is the last place she wants to be.

"Ha! I hope you like them. This one was a birthday gift from a certain well known Oscar winning actress!" Plutarch exclaims puffing his chest out in pride.

Katniss forces a smile but her eyes look over to the door again with longing. Plutarch is still oblivious and continues chattering on as Cashmere sits beside me getting angrier and angrier.

"So what's brought you back to LA? Please tell me it's to follow in your Dad's footsteps. If I remember correctly you had quite the singing voice as a child. I could help get your voice heard. Everyone at the label will just die when I tell them that Heath Everdeen's daughter is back! You could even do a duet with Cashmere! The fans would love it!" Plutarch says.

I can only stifle a laugh as I see the look of horror on both Cashmere's and Katniss' face when Plutarch suggests this.

"I'm not a singer," Katniss states bluntly.

The smile drops from Plutarch's face and I don't think I've seen him this disappointed since his favourite television singing show got cancelled.

"I'm just here to pick up some of my dad's things. I'm not sticking around for long," she adds.

Plutarch's face drops further and he drops his arms that were holding Katniss.

"What a pity. You could have made out like a bandit in this city," he says.

Katniss smiles weakly before managing to edge away from Plutarch. She tells Plutarch she has to be somewhere and turns to leave. Just before she reaches the door she turns and her eyes catch on to mine. She holds my stare for a brief moment before whipping round and dashing out the door.

Plutarch sighs as the door closes behind her and slumps down on the couch.

"I wish I could convince her to sing. With that beauty and her father's name she would be an instant hit," Plutarch muses.

Neither Cashmere nor I reply as Plutarch leans forward to pick up his tablet. He still mutters about Katniss so he doesn't notice the daggers that my sister is throwing in his direction.

* * *

Cashmere's mood doesn't improve for the rest of the day and I call my friend Finnick to suggest a night out so I can get away from the tense atmosphere at home. Katniss didn't make another appearance today and I hope she is alright after everything that happened today.

I meet Finnick in a trendy karaoke bar in downtown LA. It's become a favourite of ours because of its laidback atmosphere and retro décor. Neither Finnick nor I are singers but you can't stop us getting up there once we've had a few drinks. Finnick is already waiting for me there with a beer and a shot when I arrive.

"Get this down your throat. Tequila always produces our best performances," Finnick says as I take the stool next to him.

I take the shot off him and grin before I tip the contents down my throat. Finnick grins at me as he pats me on the back. Several pairs of female eyes pin on us and some begin whispering behind their hands as they point at us. Finnick catches one group's eye and he gives them a cheeky smile and wave that has them all blushing and leaning in closer together to whisper about him.

This is not an unusual sight when I am out with Finnick. He's a model that has recently tried to get into acting and even as a man I can tell his bronze hair, green eyes and six foot three muscular frame is attractive. Finnick is never short of admirers.

We've been friends for three years now. He played the love interest in one of Cashmere's music videos and we hit it off immediately. We bonded over basketball and motorbikes and cemented our friendship with a drunken night in Vegas. Now that my childhood friend, Thresh, has moved with his wife to Tennesse, Finnick is the first person I call when I need someone to talk to or just want to blow off some steam.

I quickly fill him in on all that happened with Cashmere, Katniss and Plutarch today. Finnick raises his eyebrows in surprise when he finds out that Heath's daughter is back.

"Oh man! I would pay to watch Cashmere react to Katniss living back in her house. There's definitely a reality TV programme in there," he says.

"Don't give Plutarch any ideas. He's desperate to make money off Katniss' return," I reply.

Finnick laughs as he shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer.

"What's she like anyway? Is she hot?" Finnick asks.

I sigh and shake my head at him.

"Physical appearance is always more important to you. You are never actually interested to know if they are a good human being," I reply.

"Look, I apologise about Glimmer. How was I to know she'd turn out to be a psycho that would burn all your clothes? At least I got you laid," Finnick says.

I shake my head at my best friend as he reminds me of my most recent ex. I finally managed to break things off two weeks ago but Glimmer, a well known model who is the self-proclaimed queen of social media, didn't take the news well.

"You always pick out the nut jobs for me. I'm never trusting your judgement again," I say.

Finnick grins as he leans back and throws an arm around the back of the stool.

"Fine. But stop avoiding the real subject. On a scale of one to ten how hot is Katniss Everdeen?" he asks.

I know he won't let me get away with it and I'll be forced to give my honest opinion about Katniss. My mind wanders back to when I first saw her in the kitchen this morning and a smile appears across my face.

"I wouldn't describe her as hot," I begin. "She's beautiful. In the complete opposite way to Cashmere. She didn't wear an ounce of make-up and wore these tiny little shorts that showed off great legs but she was embarrassed when she caught me looking at them. And then she has these beautiful grey eyes. I never seen a colour like it. Like clouds on a stormy day."

I'm lost in thought and Finnick catches me day dreaming. A smile slowly spreads across his face.

"Sounds like you have a little crush," he says smugly.

I snap out of my thoughts about Katniss and turn to focus on him.

"I barely know her. I wouldn't call it a crush," I reply.

"Oh, come on, Peet. I know when a girl has got you smitten. The two of you living in the same house. It's only a matter of time before you end up having some naked time together," he says.

I shake my head at him.

"I don't think Katniss is like that. Even if I wanted that I don't think she would go anywhere near me," I reply.

Finnick smiles again as he takes a sip on his beer.

"Whatever you say, bro," he says, clearly not believing me.

I sigh but don't bother arguing any further. It'll just further convince Finnick that he's right. But I have no intentions on pursuing Katniss. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be interested and Cashmere would castrate me if she found out. Finnick soon changes the subject and I forget about Katniss Everdeen and her beautiful grey eyes for a moment.

The bar gets busier as the night goes on and there are some half decent singers up on stage. Some obviously think that they are going to get talent spotted here and they fill their songs with over the top riffs and warbling. Finnick and I keep topping ourselves up with tequila shots in preparation for our own performance.

However just after midnight I spot a familiar set of grey eyes.

"Holy shit! Katniss is here!" I exclaim as some beer dribbles down my chin.

I hastily wipe away the amber liquid and Finnick cranes his neck to try and catch a glimpse of her. I point him in the direction of Katniss, who's standing with a tall male and a short woman with spikey hair. Katniss looks even more beautiful from when I saw her this morning. Her dark hair is in flowing waves down her back and she wears a tight fitting pair of jeans with a black lace crop top that shows off her toned stomach. There is just a hint of eyeshadow and mascara that make her grey eyes stand out even more. Finnick lets out a low whistle when he catches sight of her.

"You weren't overselling her. She's breath-taking. Definitely hotter than Cashmere," he says.

I nod my head in agreement as I can't take my eyes off her. She looks so much more relaxed than she did in the house. Her tall male friend bends down to whisper something in her ear and her mouth twists up into a grin as she laughs. A surge of jealousy runs through me at seeing how comfortable she is with her friends.

Finnick catches me staring and smiles smugly at me again.

"I'm giving it a month," he says.

I glare at him, which just causes him to chuckle.

I debate with myself whether or not to go up and say hi to her. My sister may not like her but that doesn't me I can't try to be friends with her. We are going to be living in the same house for a while. I don't want things to be awkward between us.

Finnick eventually gives me a big nudge and tells me to go and speak to her. I make my move when I see Katniss go up to the bar by herself. I squeeze my way through the crowd and slide into the space beside her. I take a deep breath and put on my most winning smile as I prepare to talk to her.

"Are you following me, sweetheart? I must have made quite an impression on you this morning," I say.

Katniss turns to look at me and rolls her eyes when she sees me. She turns back to look at the bar as she taps her nails against it.

"And here I thought I was escaping from you and your sister," she says.

I give her my most confident grin as I lean casually against the bar.

"You really don't like my sister, do you?" I say. "It doesn't matter. The feeling is mutual. Cashmere doesn't like you either."

Katniss shrugs her shoulders as the bartender comes to take her order. She gives it to them before answering me.

"I honestly don't care what Cashmere thinks about me," Katniss replies.

"You don't, do you?" I say.

Katniss turns to look me in the eye.

"Why does that surprise you? It doesn't matter what other people think about me. As long as I am happy and think I am a good person, that's all I care about," she replies.

I relax my muscles as the cocky smile falls from my face. Instead I look at her with a kind of awe.

"I don't think it is a bad thing. It's refreshing to think like that. Most people in LA are obsessed with how they are perceived. I think more people should have your attitude," I say honestly.

Katniss looks at me carefully before she shakes her head.

"I can't figure you out. I get glimpses of an honest and genuine guy and then there are other times where I think you are the most arrogant guy on the planet," she says.

I straighten up and raise my eyebrows at her.

"I knew you liked me more than you let on," I say with a cheeky smile.

"See! This is exactly what I mean. You've gone back to arrogant asshole mode. I don't think you are aware you even do it. It's just a subtle shift in your body language and smile. I don't have time for that. I'm only interested in real people," she says.

I realise that I want her to like me. In the brief interactions we've had she's proven to be different from almost every other girl I have met. I don't want her to think I am arrogant. I shift my body position again and look at her seriously. I pause momentarily as I think of the right words to say.

"I don't take sugar in my tea. I always double knot my shoelaces and can't sleep without the window open. My favourite colour is orange. Not bright orange but soft, like the sunset. Sunsets are my favourite things to paint because no matter how many I see not one is the same. I love travelling the world to paint as many different ones as I can," I say.

Katniss listens to me intently as I speak. I drop the cocky bravado and try to be as honest as I can be. I think I even see the hint of a smile on her lips.

"I hope that's real enough for you. I'd like to know the real things about you too," I say sincerely.

There is definitely a small smile on her face now and it stays on there as she turns to pay for the drinks. She gathers the bottles in her hands and smiles at me as she prepares to leave.

"My favourite colour is green," she says.

She smiles at me one last time before turning to push her way back to her friends. I can't stop the grin that spreads across my face. It's not a lot but I'll take it. I'll just have to work hard to gain her trust enough to find out more.

I'm still grinning when I get back to Finnick with fresh beers and two shots of tequila. He slaps me on the back as I sit down and demands to know what happened with Katniss.

"We chatted," I say coyly. "I think we can be friends."

Finnick grins and shakes his head before we both turn our attention to the stage. A duo have just finished an energetic rendition of a popular dance track and the audience are clamouring for the next singer. I cheer and clap when I see Katniss climb up onto the stage. She's smiling as her friends push her up there and she laughs when she gets to the top. She takes the microphone off the MC and turns out to face the crowd.

Finnick nudges me in the ribs and gives me a grin. But I'm not paying attention. My attention is firmly fixed on the girl on the stage. She told Plutarch earlier today that she didn't sing but I can still remember her beautiful voice at Cashmere's wedding. I wonder if she still sounds as mesmerising.

She smiles as she tells the MC her song and then looks down at the ground with her eyes closed as she waits for the music to start. The first few bars begin to play and it's an old country song, one I'm pretty sure her dad used to sing. She raises her eyes just before she opens her mouth to sing and I realise that I have been holding my breath waiting for her to begin.

There had been some chatter in the bar as she got up but the whole place suddenly goes silent. Katniss transforms when she is on that stage. Her whole body relaxes and moves in time with the music. Her face lights up and brightens the room. But it is her voice that captivates everyone. It's soft and soulful and utterly compelling. I sit with my mouth open as I watch her, transfixed.

You can hear a pin drop as she performs and every eye is on her. When the song ends there is a moment of quiet as the audience come to terms with what we just heard. And then the whole place erupts into thunderous applause. I'm up on my feet and raising my finger to my lips to whistle. Several people clamour for an encore but Katniss almost looks embarrassed as she hears the applause. She blushes as she drops her eyes to the ground and then turns towards her friends. They cheer and clap loudly as well and she laughs as she rushes down the steps to join them and they encase her in a massive three-way hug. I can't take my eyes off her as the next singer comes on stage and is completely drowned out by the applause for Katniss.

Eventually I lose sight of Katniss as she and her friends disappear further into the crowd. I turn round to face Finnick with a content smile on my face. Finnick grins broadly at me when I sit back down. It's then I realise that he has his phone out and had it set to record.

"That's the best thing I've heard all year. Man, you've got to send this video to Plutarch. Katniss Everdeen deserves to be heard!" he exclaims.

"I don't know, Finn. She seemed pretty against it when he spoke to her earlier about it," I say.

Finnick shakes his head furiously.

"If you don't do it, I will. She loves performing. You can see it on her face when she's up there. I bet she's just scared about following in her dad's footsteps," he says.

I look back out in the direction I last saw her as I ponder Finnick's words. Katniss did transform when she was up there and a voice that beautiful should not be hidden in a karaoke bar. I take a deep breath as I make a decision and ask Finnick to send me the video. Plutarch will have a nice present in his inbox when he wakes up tomorrow morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has let me know they are enjoying the story. You motivate me to write. A lot of people are a little worried about Katniss' reaction about the video Peeta sent. Hopefully people will still be satisfied with the outcome.**

* * *

Chapter 3

 _Katniss_

I am woken by a loud crashing sound followed by a string of curse words. I squeeze my eyes shut to try and block out the pounding in my head. The world already seems to be spinning and I haven't even opened my eyes yet. I don't want to wake up and face the hangover that awaits me.

"Damn you, Gale! I had finally managed to get to sleep!" Johanna exclaims loudly.

I let out a long exhale. If Johanna is awake I know any further attempt to get some sleep will be fruitless. I groan as I roll onto my back and carefully peel my eyes open. Gale sits on a chair, rubbing his toe, while Johanna is sprawled out on the couch in just a bra and skirt. My movements alert them that I am awake and they both turn to look at me.

"Jesus, Catnip. You look worse than I feel," Gale says.

I scowl at him and cross my arms across my chest. I'm still in last night's clothes and I can feel the mascara smeared down my face but I don't need a verbal reminder of the state I am in now.

"At least I wasn't the one puking my guts up in an alleyway. Some of us can hold our alcohol," I bite back.

Gale scowls at me and Johanna shakes her head at us both. I reach up to massage my temples in an effort to alleviate my aching head. Most of last night is hazy. After my run in with Cashmere I took Johanna up on her offer to go out. I also called up my other childhood friend, Gale, and we set off for a night in town.

It was supposed to be a reasonably quiet night with a few beers at a trendy karaoke bar. But things don't stay quiet when Johanna is around. I think we went to three other bars after the karaoke and I don't think we got in until five this morning.

"Things got pretty wild last night. I lost count of what we drank after the karaoke. Katniss, did you steal a bar stool?" Johanna asks.

I groan and we all turn to look at a wooden stool that definitely wasn't in Johanna's apartment the day before. I have a flashback to when I tried to get the stool in the cab at the end of the night.

"I'm surprised I didn't need my stomach pumped. I forgot what a bad influence you guys are," I groan.

"We're the bad influences? You are the one that comes back and gets me so drunk that I throw up for the first time in three years! If anyone is a bad influence, it's you," Gale replies.

Johanna lets out a small chuckle and shakes her head. She props herself up on her elbow and turns to look at us fully.

"I think we can all agree we are bad influences on each other but we had reason to get shitfaced last night! Brainless is finally back stateside for the first time in six years! And she needed a drink after having to face Cashmere again," Johanna exclaims.

I sigh as I try to sit up but I have to pause half way as a wave of nausea passes over me. I wait for it to pass before sitting up fully and pulling my knees up to my chest.

"She's even colder than I remember. But even last night I couldn't escape her. I had to run into her fucking brother," I say picking at a loose thread on the blanket I have round my legs.

Johanna chuckles as she shakes her head at me.

"I can't believe you didn't know who he was when you met him. Most girls would cut off their right arm to have Peeta Mellark standing shirtless in their kitchen!" Johanna exclaims.

She found they story of how I met Peeta very amusing. Mainly because I was so embarrassed around a half-naked man but it also turns out that Peeta is more well-known than I was aware of. Apparently he is like the modern day Picasso in the States.

Gale laughs too and looks at me with a big grin.

"You should take it as a compliment that he was checking you out. He's been linked to just about every hot young star in Hollywood. He and Finnick Odair are the country's most eligible bachelors," Gale teases lightly.

I narrow my eyes at him as I huff and release my arms from around my legs.

"Doesn't stop him from being an arrogant ass. He's just as vain as Cashmere," I reply.

But even as I say it I don't quite believe it. He did use his smarmy chat up line on me last night but after I called him out on it he cut out the bullshit and actually sounded like a normal human being. He just confuses me. I think there could be a genuine guy underneath it all but I have trouble trusting someone who is so perfect looking.

"That doesn't surprise me. Most artists are but he does produce damn good work. His sunsets in particular. I even bought a print of his _Sunset in Nepal._ No way could I fork out the half million dollars for the original," Johanna says.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I had no idea his paintings went for so much money. I don't have much of an interest in art and he never made it in England so I was completely oblivious. And if Johanna is singing his praises he must be good. She's an aspiring photographer but normally prefers grungier art. She must have been pretty impressed to buy a picture of something as traditional as a sunset.

I sit pensively as I try to work Peeta Mellark out but Gale must sense my reluctance to discuss Peeta further as he quickly clears his throat to change the subject.

"Enough about anyone who shares Cashmere's DNA. The real highlight of last night was hearing Catnip sing again. You totally stole the show last night," Gale says with a grin.

I blush as I look down at my feet. I hadn't expected to get up and sing last night. I hate all the expectation that comes with being Heath Everdeen's daughter. But it felt so good to be up there last night. Whenever I sing I go into another world. It almost feels like I am floating in the air as the happy endorphins run through my body. I often find trouble expressing myself in words and singing is my one outlet to convey everything I'm feeling. I begin to imagine what it would feel like to sing every day. Maybe if my last name wasn't Everdeen I could do. I could be a singer and put my music out there.

I can't help the small smile that spreads across my face. This doesn't go unnoticed by either of my friends and Johanna gives me a knowing smile.

"Look at you, smiling and all proud of yourself. I knew you would still rock it," she says.

I smile gratefully as I bask in the memory of performing last night.

"I had more fun than I thought I would. It was nice to perform in front of an American crowd again and to have all the whooping and cheering. Audiences are so polite in England but the crowd gave me a real buzz last night," I reply.

"Only because you were the best person there. If Plutarch heard you sing he'd want to sign you up straight away," Gale says.

And just like that my mood drops. I pull my knees back up and put my arms around them as I rest my chin on my knees.

"Don't give him any ideas. He already suggested a duet with Cashmere," I mumble.

Johanna and Gale both raise their eyebrows. I didn't tell them about Plutarch's proposition yesterday. I'm not ready for that yet.

"A duet with Cashmere is a stupid idea but what is so crazy about him signing you up? You're incredible and clearly love performing," Johanna says.

I sigh as I shake my head.

"I don't want to walk in my dad's shadow. There is only one Heath Everdeen," I reply.

Both Gale and Johanna nod their heads in understanding and I sit for a moment before getting up to go to the bathroom, effectively ending the conversation. I don't want to think of the possibility of signing a record deal for myself.

* * *

Johanna, Gale and I all manage to shower and drag ourselves to a nearby diner for some much needed greasy food before I bid them goodbye and brace myself for another encounter with Cashmere. With some luck she will be out when I get in but I can't get rid of the anxiousness as I drive up the driveway. I shouldn't feel like this coming back to my old home. I take a deep breath before I put the keys in the lock and prepare myself for who awaits me inside.

However, it turns out that Cashmere isn't the one I should be worrying about. As soon as I enter the polished entrance way an exuberant pair of arms wrap around me and squeeze me tight. I am shocked as the person releases his grip slightly but still keeps me in a tight grasp.

"I knew you could sing! I just knew a daughter of Heath Everdeen's would have the most wonderful voice. I can't believe you would lie to me, Katniss," Plutarch says gently shaking his finger at me. "I've already sent the video to Snow Records and they can't wait to sign you!"

I look at Plutarch with a mixture of shock and confusion. He's dressed in a bright red velvet shirt and pant set today and his cheeriness is doing nothing to improve my hungover state.

"Video? What video?" I ask.

It's then that I notice the two other people in the room. Cashmere leans against the door frame with her arms crossed against her chest and smouldering anger in her eyes. Peeta stands sheepishly to her side. His blond curls stick out at odd angles, as if he has been running his hands through them, but he is at least wearing a shirt today. The white Lakers t-shirt perfectly hugs his toned arms and shows off his tanned skin.

"The video of you singing at the karaoke last night! I couldn't believe it when I woke up this morning and opened what Peeta had sent me last night!" Plutarch exclaims.

I snap my eyes to Peeta and he cowers back slightly from the intensity of my stare.

"Why would you send a video of me?" I demand. "You didn't have my permission. You had no right to."

Peeta takes a deep breath as he runs an agitated hand through his hair.

"I had to send it. A voice as beautiful as yours deserves to be heard. It would be crime if you kept it hidden in karaoke bars," he replies.

I shake my head furiously at him. Just when I thought there was something genuine about him he goes and does this! He arrogantly assumed I wanted this.

"Don't you think that if I wanted a career in music I would have pursued one?" I ask angrily.

Plutarch chews on his bottom lip as he whips he head between both Peeta and I. It seems he didn't expect my reaction.

"I think Peeta was just trying to help you. Give you the confidence to go for it," Plutarch tries to intervene.

"He's not my friend. I didn't need his help," I snarl.

Cashmere picks herself off the doorframe and saunters towards me. She plasters on a sickly sweet smile as she comes over to me and puts an arm around my shoulder. I eye her warily as she looks down at me.

"Honestly, Peeta. I can't believe you would do such a thing. It's an invasion of Katniss' privacy," she says.

She squeezes my shoulders and rubs her hands up and down my arms reassuringly. I look up at her surprised, wondering where she is going with this.

"The music industry is a cut throat business and Katniss is just too precious for it. I won't have my step-daughter taken advantage of," Cashmere continues.

More like she doesn't want anyone to step on her shoes. She is the undisputed queen of the music industry and she doesn't want anyone threatening that title.

Peeta shakes his head but he seems to gain more confidence in his actions. He straightens his back fully and walks towards me until he stands in front of me, looking down at me with those clear blue eyes. Cashmere narrows her eyes at him, as if she can't believe he has the balls to disagree with her. Her grip on my arm tightens and her sharp nails dig into my skin.

"Don't let anyone tell you that you can't do this. I saw you up there. You transformed into another person while you were on stage. Someone who was happy and content. I think you were born to sing and you shouldn't let the fact you are scared of your father's legacy stop you," Peeta says passionately.

Cashmere's nails dig into me even more and I let out a sharp yelp before pulling away. I rub my arm where her nails pierced my skin as I turn to look at Peeta. I take a step towards him and look up at him with seething anger.

"You don't know me. None of you do. So stop making decisions on my behalf," I hiss.

I hold Peeta's stare for a long moment and my heart pounds in my chest as the adrenaline runs through my body. I don't know who this man thinks he is, telling me what I think.

But Peeta doesn't cower away and holds my stare with equal intent. Eventually I whip my head away and storm up the stairs to my bedroom.

I phone Gale and Johanna to rant about what Peeta did and both agree that he was totally in the wrong. Both seem shocked that he would go behind my back in this way. I feel a little better after I vent my frustrations but I've still got some angry energy running through my body so I do the only thing I know that helps clear my head. I whip out my tattered notebook and let out all my emotions on the page.

Sometime later there is a knock on the door and Plutarch sheepishly pops his head around the door. He hovers there for a moment as he decides if it is safe for him to come in.

"I shouldn't have sprung that all on you. Sometimes I only see the dollar signs and nothing else," he says.

I snort as I push myself up and turn to face Plutarch properly.

"I don't want to be a piece in your game, Plutarch," I reply.

Plutarch bows his head and nods it.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should have stopped and asked what you wanted before I went trying to get a record deal," he apologises.

I soften slightly. Plutarch may be exuberant and over the top most of the time but he has a good heart at the centre. He didn't push my dad to write new music when we first arrived in LA and allowed time for my dad to grieve. I shift slightly on the bed to make room for him and he comes over to join me.

"If you really don't want to become a singer I won't ever mention it again. You are free to do whatever you want," he says.

"I'm not sure I know what that is," I mumble.

Plutarch smiles at me kindly and puts a reassuring hand on my arm.

"You'll figure it out in your own time. I'm here if you ever need any help. I'm well connected and not just within Hollywood," Plutarch says.

I laugh lightly and smile at him gratefully. It feels like he can be an ally while I'm in LA.

Plutarch smiles back at me and pats my arm before drawing his hand away.

"Don't blame Peeta for sending the video. He has a good heart and would have honestly thought he was helping you," Plutarch says.

I snort and shake my head.

"He's so arrogant. He just assumed I would fall into his arms, showering him with my eternal gratitude for doing what he did," I reply.

"Peeta wouldn't have wanted anything in return. There are only two people who I've managed that I can say I genuinely like as people. One was your father. The other is Peeta," Plutarch says.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise and Plutarch nods his head in confirmation.

"Neither of them are in the business for the fame and fortune. They just love what they do and want to share that love with the world," Plutarch adds.

Plutarch's words shock me and I'm once again confused about who Peeta Mellark really is.

* * *

I don't want to spend my day trying to figure Peeta out. I've already thought about him too much for a man I am planning on never seeing again after a couple of weeks. Instead I focus on Plutarch's words about my dad. He's been gone for six years now and I had forgotten just what had motivated my dad to sing. Whenever I asked him as a child he said it's because singing made him happy and if his songs could make just one person as happy it was worth it. I smile at the thought and I realise that I feel the same way. I love sharing my songs too and making people feel something. Music is a great way to bring people together.

I get a strong urge to reminisce and hear the songs that made my dad the happiest. I ransack the basement to find his old record player and records. I blow the dust off the covers as I set up the player in the living room. The first song I select is called _Blossoms_ and is about the first time my dad saw Mom. As soon as the first notes play I am transported back to a time when Dad would play this in the living room and twirl Mom around the room. She pretended to look embarrassed as he retold the story of how he fell in love with her. Prim and I would sit eagerly listening until we begged to join in and Dad would swoop down to include us in their dance.

I smile the entire time as I flick through his records and remember all the happy stories behind them. Maybe becoming a singer isn't so bad. I would get to write and perform my own songs. I remember the buzz of performing with Dad and get an itch to do it again.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't hear anyone enter until a shadow crosses over me. I jerk my head up to look at Peeta, who looks apologetic and hides something behind his back. I look up at him with a frown as I sit up and turn the record player off.

"Great song. _The Valley Song_ is one of my favourites," Peeta says.

I stare at him silently for a long time before I open my mouth to speak.

"What do you want?" I ask.

Peeta takes a deep breath as he juggles the thing he's holding behind his back.

"I owe you an apology. I should have never sent that video without your permission. It was an asshole move," he says.

"It was. I don't like people making decisions for me," I reply curtly.

A small smile graces Peeta's lips and he nods his head.

"I'm beginning to get that about you. You are perfectly capable of looking after yourself," he says.

I nod my head in agreement and wait to see if he has anything else to say. I'm curious to know what he has got behind his back.

"Err…I got you a gift to apologise. I know it won't make up for the one you lost but I thought you would like another friend in LA," he says.

He then takes out a small cardboard box, with small circles cut into the side, from behind his back. He bends down and opens the lid, revealing a tiny orange tabby cat inside.

"I'm not sure if it's the same kind as your sister's, Cashmere could only tell me it was orange, but I hope you like it," he adds.

I'm a little stunned as he reaches in to take out the kitten. The little tabby squirms in his hands as it tries to escape his grip and I laugh as the kitten tumbles ungraciously out of his hands. The cat shakes its head as it gathers its bearings and I smile as I reach down to scoop him up.

"You're a lively little thing, aren't you?" I say bringing the kitten up to my face.

The kitten continues to wriggle in my hands and I laugh again as it lets out a tiny sneeze. Peeta smiles at me happily when I look back at him and he reaches over to scratch the kitten's head.

"He's definitely going to get up to mischief," Peeta says affectionately.

I smile as I cradle the kitten in my arms and it starts pawing at a loose thread on my blouse.

"Thank you," I say looking at Peeta. "It's a very thoughtful gift."

Peeta smiles at me before he leans back on his hands. The bottom of his shirt rides up a little as he does so and I catch a glimpse of the fine blond hairs that come down from his navel. I blush a little and look away as the thought of following that trail appears in my head.

Here he is confusing me again. I was so angry with him this morning and I never expected him to give me a gift so thoughtful. He's right that this cat won't replace Buttercup but it is still a way I can remember my sister.

"What are you going to name him?" Peeta asks.

"I don't know. All my family seem to be named after plants but there aren't many masculine floral names," I reply.

"What about Pumpkin? They're orange like him. You could call him PK for short," Peeta says.

"And here I thought you would be suggesting Sunset. That's your favourite colour, right?" I say.

Peeta raises his eyebrows in surprise and the cocky smile graces his lips again.

"I knew you were listening carefully last night. I know I am very fascinating," he says.

I scowl at him but then the kitten reaches a paw too far out and topples out of my arm. Both Peeta and I jerk forward to pick him up. The kitten looks a little dazed for a moment before wriggling out of my grip and going off to explore the living room. Peeta and I watch it for a moment as it eyes the fluffy rug carefully. Peeta is the first to look away and clears his throat as he does so.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to go into douche bag mode again. Old habits die hard," he says.

I look at him for a long moment and he genuinely seems to be sorry for using that line. His eyes beg for me to forgive him. I sigh as I turn to face him while still keeping an eye on the kitten who is now rolling about on the rug. The kitten does need a name.

"An old boyfriend tried to call me Pumpkin and that didn't go down well. But I like the thought of calling him PK for short," I say.

Peeta's face breaks into a wide grin as I accept his suggestion.

"Does that mean you forgive me for sending the video? I really would like to try and be friends," he says.

"I don't need any more friends," I reply.

"Most people don't but it's nice to have another person to care about," he says. "Plus I make really good cheese buns. They're reason enough to keep me around."

I don't want to smile but I can't help it. He may be a bit cheeky but I'm beginning to think it's not in the arrogant way I first presumed.

"I guess we can try it. I forgive you," I say.

Peeta smiles again and relaxes back on his arms. His eyes don't leave my face as he speaks again.

"It was supposed to be a compliment, you know? If I only get to hear you sing at karaoke bars, I'll be there every week," he says.

"You really enjoyed my singing that much?" I ask in surprise.

Peeta nods his head eagerly.

"I was captivated from the first note. I felt every emotion that was in the song," he says seriously.

I am amazed by his response. Peeta's answer is the very reason my dad started singing. He wanted to make people feel something. Maybe I can do it too.

I thank Peeta and then spend the next hour laughing as PK gets to grip with his new home. He is one very determined kitten and even though it takes him five attempts to clamber up the sofa, he never gives up. Eventually Peeta has to be someplace else and gets up to leave. I realise that it wasn't completely horrible spending time with him.

PK eventually tires and curls up to sleep on one of the sofas. I take the opportunity to tidy up a little and put away Dad's records. The thought of making a career out of singing appears in my head again. Nowadays singing is about the only thing that makes me feel happy and part of me would love to perform every day for a living. But I know how demanding the music industry can be. I don't want the fame and am unsure if I could be anyone other than Heath's Everdeen's daughter.

As I am tidying away the records I knock my worn notebook off the coffee table. I've had the notebook since I was fourteen and it is filled with songs that represent every feeling I've ever had. During the last couple of years in Dad's life we wrote songs together. Many of them are still in this notebook today and it is always comforting to see his scrawny handwriting in there whenever I begin to miss him too much.

The notebook lands face down and open on the wooden floor. When I bend down to pick it up I see that it opened at one of the pages my dad wrote on.

 _"_ _Don't allow fear to hold you back from following your dreams,"_ I read as I trace the small letters of his handwriting.

This is something that Dad would tell me over and over again. He was a firm believer that nothing in life worth having comes easy. He always encouraged me to venture out of my comfort zone and achieve everything I ever wanted. I don't know if he would be proud of how I am acting now.

Because I realise that I wasn't mad at Peeta for sending Plutarch the video. I was mad at him because he was right. I am scared of following in my dad's footsteps and never being as good as him. It angered me that someone I have known for less than twenty-four hours was able to figure this out.

I stare at Dad's words for a long time and remember the feeling of performing last night. The warm feeling comes back and I realise I have to stop being scared. Taking a deep breath I put the notebook down and pick up my phone to call Plutarch.

* * *

A week later I stand in the recording studio, microphone in front of me, while a dozen people look at me behind the glass. Plutarch is the centre of them all and leans forward as he presses a button and speaks into the microphone.

"Okay, Katniss. We're all ready to go. You've really lucked out on snagging this song. They wanted to give it to Clove but I persuaded them you were the better choice. It's an upbeat number about the passion you feel when you see someone attractive in a club. It's going to be a hit!" Plutarch explains.

Johanna makes a gagging gesture from behind Plutarch's shoulder. I'm really nervous about today and brought her along for moral support. So far she has calmed me down by making fun of all the pretentious music types running about the place.

I nod my head in response to Plutarch as I take a deep breath and look at the song sheet in front of me. I wanted to sing my own songs but Plutarch insisted we go with established writers until they can build my profile up. Then maybe I'll get to sing my own songs. However, the thought of singing this new song terrifies me. It's about a girl that sees a guy in a club who she just has to have. I'm not the biggest club person in the world and I certainly don't go to them to find a guy. I don't know how to relate to that girl.

My palms begin to get sweaty and I fumble with the sheet music, some of it tumbling to the ground. I apologise profusely as I bend down to gather it in and allow myself a couple more minutes to compose myself. Eventually the beating in my heart goes back to normal and I stand up ready to perform.

Plutarch grins at me broadly but I can tell he is impatient to get ready.

"Whenever you are ready, Katniss. Just give us a thumbs up when you're ready to go," he says.

I nod my head again and take another deep breath to prepare myself. I look up at Johanna and she gives me a reassuring smile that goes a long way to calm my nerves. I look back at Plutarch and give him the thumbs up. He smiles again as the first few bars of the song begin to play.

It's more poppy than what I'm used to and it takes me a few moments to catch onto the beat. I open my mouth to sing and recite the first few lines of the song. I struggle with the first few notes. I can't feel any connection with the words on the page and the feelings I am supposed to feel. I barely make it to the chorus before Plutarch calls cut cut and speaks to me through the window.

"Katniss, you sound like your cat has just died. Remember you are excited in this song. Be a bit more upbeat!" Plutarch says.

"More upbeat. Got it," I reply.

I give him another thumbs up before swinging my arms to try and loosen up. Johanna is still smiling encouragingly through the glass and I try to focus on her and not the whispering music producers behind the glass. I tell them I'm ready to go again and the track begins playing again.

I try to sound more upbeat and even try to dance along with the track but even I know that I sound false. Plutarch sinks his head into his hands. It doesn't matter if I have a good voice, I need to be able to convey the emotions of the song.

"Cut!" Plutarch calls after I have sung the second verse. "Let's try that again."

There is a collective nodding of heads as I become dispirited. We go a few more times before Plutarch's frustrations grow and he pulls me out of the booth.

"Let's take a break. I think we need to recompose ourselves," Plutarch says.

He sighs heavily as he gets off his chair and goes to make himself a large cup of coffee. I slump down on one of the leather couches and cross my arms defensively across my chest. I've never felt so useless. It shouldn't be this hard to sing a song. I feel the couch dip down beside me and turn to look at Johanna.

"It was never going to be perfect the first time. You're just not the usual pop princess they're used to," Johanna says.

"Then why do they make me sing the same songs as them? The girl in this song is sexy and that's something I don't know how to be," I moan.

"You're underselling yourself. You've got a sweet, sexy little ass," Johanna says playfully smacking my hip.

I laugh and shake my head when I hear my cell phone beep with an incoming message. I reach for my phone in my satchel, pull it out and read it.

 _Hope everything is going well. I know you'll be killing it. If I bake you cheese buns will you let me get a sneaky listen of your first song? X_

The message is from Peeta. I've tried not to be as standoffish towards him. He's shown the last week he's not this cocky guy he so often perceives. We've never hung out outside of the house but he has proven to be a very good baker. I would literally kill for one of his cheese buns and he begs to hear me sing at every opportunity. He's been surprisingly supportive about me signing the record contract and made me pancakes this morning to wish me good luck.

His message though reminds me how badly things are going and I slump back into the sofa. Johanna raises her eyebrows and tilts her head to the side to look at me carefully.

"Who was that?" she asks.

"Peeta," I reply. "He was asking if everything is going well."

Johanna smirks at me and leans back against the couch.

"He seems pretty interested in your wellbeing considering you're in direct competition with his sister," Johanna says.

"He wants us to be friends and if that means I have one last person showing me passive aggression in the house, I'm all for it," I reply.

The house isn't the most comfortable place to live at the moment. Cashmere is not happy that I've signed a record deal and thinks I'm stealing her thunder. However, she doesn't show her anger in an active way. It's a lot of back handed compliments and sneaky game playing. At least Peeta seems happy for me.

"I think he wants to be more than just friends. Guys don't bake for just anyone," Johanna says.

I sigh and shake my head at her.

"Peeta does. He even makes cookies for the homeless," I reply.

"And you said he was cocky and arrogant," Johanna smirks.

I don't like what she is trying to imply so scowl at her. She chuckles to herself before Plutarch comes back in and gathers everyone around. I brace myself for what he has to say about me.

"I think we can all agree that this morning has not be successful. Katniss, I need more from you. You sound like an emotionless robot," he says.

"I just don't feel anything in the song. It's not a situation I've ever been in," I say exasperated.

"Then imagine it. Pretend. It's called acting," Plutarch replies.

"But I'm not an actress!" I exclaim.

Plutarch sighs again and begins rubbing his temples. Johanna looks at me sympathetically and then turns round to face the rest of the room.

"Let her sing her own songs. She has a notebook filled with them and half of them are way better than the auto-tuned shit produced today," Johanna says.

I snap my eyes to her, impressed that she has the balls to say this to Plutarch.

Plutarch sighs again as he sits back in his chair.

"Normally I wouldn't consider it with a novice but after hearing how bad it was this morning I'm willing to look at them," he says.

He sticks out his hand and gestures for me to give him the notebook. I jolt up and rummage around in my satchel to find it. I'm jittery as I hand it over, excited to hear what they have to say. Plutarch and some of the producers bend their heads and start reading the hundreds of lyrics I have written. A chew on my lip nervously as I watch them. A couple of pages in Plutarch freezes and looks up at me in amazement.

"Is this Heath's handwriting? Did you write these songs together?" he asks.

I nod my head.

"They are just some of them. We must have written almost a hundred songs together," I reply.

Plutarch's face lights up with glee and he begins bouncing on his chair.

"This is fantastic! Katniss, these are genius! Beetee, let's scrap the entire concept of her album. She can't sing those songs. We're going to go in a different direction. This album is all going to be about the relationship between Katniss and her dad. Heath's fans will go crazy for new songs written with his daughter!" Plutarch exclaims.

He excitedly starts firing off instructions to everyone and people all pick up their things and rush out the room. I'm a little shocked by the turn of events. I don't know if I want the whole album to be about me and dad when I'm trying hard to distinguish myself away from him but I'd much prefer to sing his songs than the pop ones they first tried to give me.

With Plutarch ordering everyone off to sort things out he ushers me back into the recording booth and asks me to sing one of the songs acapella. I pick a song called _All the Things I know_ and is about the things dad taught me. I instantly connect with the song and remember the feelings of joy as Dad taught me how to play guitar and shoot a bow and arrow. This time Plutarch can't stop smiling through the glass.

After three more hours in the recording studio I've recorded some rough tracks which the sound engineers are going to work on overnight. Everyone heaps on the praise and I get a little embarrassed by all the attention. But I'm on a major adrenaline high and am giddy as I walk out the recording studio.

"I knew you'd kill it in there, brainless," Johanna says with a grin.

"I wouldn't have if you hadn't said something. Thank you," I say.

"No problem. I'll be expecting lots of freebies once you hit the big time though," Johanna replies.

I laugh as we stop at the edge of the sidewalk.

"I think there is a bar just round the corner. Want to come and help me celebrate my first successful recording session?" I ask.

Johanna regretfully shakes her head.

"Sadly I've got some evening wedding to photograph tonight. It's not art but it pays the bills," she says.

I try not to let my disappointment show too much. My body is still buzzing with energy and I don't want to go home just yet. Gale is babysitting his little sister tonight and can't come out and join me either. I don't really have many other options.

I say goodbye to Johanna and kick the curb, frustrated that I'm ready to stay out but have no one to join me. Just then my cell phone goes off and I dig it out of my satchel to read it. It's another message from Peeta.

 _How did it go today? Fancy meeting me for dinner to tell me all about it? X_

I bite my bottom lip as my hand hovers over the reply button. On one hand I really want to stay out but on the other hand I really don't know Peeta that well. I hope he doesn't think this as some kind of date. I debate with myself for several minutes before I type out my reply.

 _Sure. Where do you want to meet?_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

 _Peeta_

I open the door to Plutarch, who is wearing a lime green shirt with oranges on it, and he pulls me in for a hug.

"Fabulous to see you, Peeta. I think I've found the perfect space for your gallery opening! I must get my secretary to email it to you," he says brightly.

"Can't wait to have a look at it," I reply.

Now I have gained a big enough reputation as an artist I have enough money to open my own gallery. I can say goodbye to commission fees and help promote little known artists. I'm hoping to showcase my latest collection next June and would love to have the gallery set up by then.

Plutarch makes himself at home as he hangs up his jacket and pulls out his tablet.

"You just concentrate on producing timeless works of art and let me take care of the rest. I'm already in and dated with requests for invitations to the grand unveiling," he says.

I smile at him appreciatively and he begins walking further into the house. As I follow after him an orange blur sprints pass and I almost trip over PK. I struggle to keep my balance as the kitten runs circles around my legs but eventually I manage to regain my composure and bend down to scoop the kitten into my arms.

"Let's get you back to your mommy. Cashmere won't take too kindly to find you running about the place," I say to the kitten.

The lively kitten squirms in my arms for a moment but eventually relaxes and sinks into my arms. I smile at PK affectionately and tuck him under my arm so we can go and find Katniss.

Plutarch makes his way through the halls and peers into the many rooms, clearly looking for someone. As if by magic Cashmere appears in front of him with wide arms.

"Looking for me, Plutarch?" Cashmere says.

Plutarch greets her with a kiss on both cheeks but shakes his head as he pulls away.

"Not today. I'm here to see Katniss. Her first performance is just two days away and there are still costumes and interviews to discuss!" Plutarch declares.

Cashmere's gaze immediately hardens but Plutarch doesn't notice and he finally spots Katniss sitting hunched over a notebook on one of the chairs on the veranda. Plutarch's face lights up and he pushes past my sister to rush out and speak to Katniss. Katniss looks a bit alarmed as he bends down to kiss her on the cheek and looks overwhelmed as Plutarch rattles off all the information he has.

I step into the kitchen to watch them through the large glass doors. I wish I could help Katniss handle Plutarch but know she hates it when I intrude so instead I just put PK down and he rushes out to his owner. Katniss smiles as he rubs up against her ankles and bends down to pick him up. She looks a lot calmer as she strokes the little kitten's head.

"He's putting all his time and energy into perfecting her. I've been pushed into second place," Cashmere says bitterly from behind me.

I let out a heavy sigh as I pull out a bar stool and sit down at the counter. I pull my sketch book over and flip it open to work on my latest sketch.

"Careful, Cash. Frowning gives you wrinkles," I reply.

Cashmere whips her head back around and her eyes throw daggers at me. She hasn't liked all the attention Katniss has gotten over the last month. I think it's because for the first time she feels threatened by another music star. She knows Katniss is just as talented as she is.

"I don't get wrinkles," she replies. "Do you know what they have been saying about her on social media? That damn video Finnick took at the karaoke already has ten million hits and one of those commenters dared suggest that he thought she was hotter and more talented than me!"

"Surely you have better things to do than read all of the comments Katniss gets. Focus on yourself, sis. Because, dare I say it, you sound jealous," I say.

Cashmere scoffs and flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder. She pulls out the stool and takes a seat beside me.

"She just needs to remember her place. I'm at the top for a reason," she says.

I nod my head but don't say anything more. I know it is pointless to try and argue with her. Instead I focus on my nearly finished sketch, adding just the right amount of shading.

Cashmere sits tapping her nails against the counter as she continues to watch Katniss and Plutarch talking. From the way her eyes narrow I know she is thinking up some plan to try and disrupt the buzz Katniss is already beginning to generate. She's friends with one of the editors at the country's most popular tabloid magazine and I'm already aware that my sister has persuaded the editor to write some less than glowing pieces on Katniss.

"I won't let you ruin things for Katniss. She deserves a chance just like anyone else. Whatever it is you are planning, stop," I say.

Cashmere turns slowly round to look at me. She stares at me for a long moment before speaking.

"You're only sticking up for her because you want to sleep with her. But you're wasting your time. Heath's daughter has always been cold," Cashmere replies.

I blush and scratch the back of my head. Cashmere's words run a little too close to home. I always thought Katniss to be beautiful and over the last month we've formed some sort of awkward friendship. My thoughts about her are not always innocent but Cashmere is right. Katniss is not interested in me in that way.

"I just want to be her friend. Is there anything really wrong with that?" I ask.

Cashmere shakes her head.

"You don't need to be friends with everyone, Peeta," she replies.

I don't reply to that. It has always been the biggest difference between Cash and I. I am a people person who collects friends wherever I go. I hate the thought of not being liked by anyone while Cash has a smaller group of friends who she found through her admiration of her. She doesn't care what people think about her unless it is about her looks or singing voice.

The kitchen is silent for a few moments as I go back to my sketching and Cashmere takes another look at Katniss and Plutarch. Eventually my sister turns away and leans over to see what I am doing.

"What are you drawing? You seem to be rather inspired at the moment," Cashmere comments.

I blush again as I pull my sketch book closer to me.

"It's…err… the flower of some edible water plant. I can't remember the name," I stutter.

It's a katniss flower but I can't admit this to Cashmere. She already thinks I'm hopeless when it comes to Katniss anyway. This will just give her more ammunition.

But Katniss has given me a lot of inspiration recently. I just can't get her out of my head and I have painted stormy pictures that match the colour of her eyes and songbirds that remind me of her singing voice. I'm never short of ideas.

Cashmere tilts her head to the side as she brings the pad closer to her. Her fingers reach out to trace the lines of my drawing and a smile appears on her face.

"You make the simplest things beautiful," she says and I smile gratefully at her. "Do you think you could do something for my album cover? I was thinking something floral. I know no one else will be able to do it justice."

I smile at her again and nod my head. When it comes down to it, Cashmere is my biggest supporter.

"I'm sure I'll be able to come up with something," I reply.

Cashmere grins and then we bend our heads together as we begin discussing what plants my sister would like to incorporate. Not once does Cashmere look back out to Katniss and Plutarch.

Cashmere eventually leaves to go to her bikram yoga class. I carry on sketching some ideas for her album cover while Plutarch finishes up with Katniss. Plutarch eventually leaves as well and Katniss comes through to the kitchen exhausted as she slumps down on a stool next to me. She leans her elbows against the counter and puts her head in her hands. She lets out a tired sigh as she does so.

"Plutarch is putting so much pressure on me! I don't know how many times he tells me that this performance is make or break. I'm already nervous enough as it is," Katniss exclaims.

I smile at her sympathetically and my hand itches to reach out and comfort her. However I leave it by my side. Katniss may now agree to hang out at a bar with me or laugh at my crappy jokes but she only lets those close to her touch her. Sadly I'm not in that category yet.

"That's Plutarch's way. He's just excited. And I am too. You're a natural performer. Just like your dad. I still remember how you rendered everyone speechless the last time I heard you sing," I say.

"Then why am I so nervous? Maybe this was all a mistake. What if I get up there on Friday and make a complete fool of myself?" she replies.

"Then I'll get up on stage and whip my shirt off. Maybe even try to sing myself. Then everyone will be making fun of me," I say with a grin.

Katniss chuckles and relaxes her shoulders a little bit. PK scampers over and bangs into one of the stools so Katniss picks him up and places him on the counter top. The kitten soon starts playing with an orange left lying there, completely oblivious to his owner's turmoil. I put down my pencil and turn to look at Katniss fully.

"Maybe you're thinking about it too much. What do you do to clear your head?" I ask.

Katniss shrugs her shoulders and picks at her nails.

"Normally I sing but that is the cause of my troubles," she replies.

I pause for a moment as I contemplate how best I can help her.

"Then we'll do my thing. Whenever I'm feeling particularly stressed I do this," I say.

Katniss quirks an eyebrow at me. I grin wider.

"There is nothing better to clear your head than throwing some pottery down on the wheel," I state confidently.

Katniss looks unconvinced but I don't give her time to argue. I reach out to grab her hand and pull her out the door to my car.

Not long after I have Katniss sitting behind a pottery wheel with an apron on and a slab of clay in her hands. She turns the clay cautiously around in her hands and eyes it like it is the hardest puzzle to solve. I give her an encouraging grin as I take my seat in the chair next to her and get my own wheel up and running.

"We're going to make mugs today. I'm tired of you always using my coffee cup in the morning," I say.

Katniss laughs and shakes her head before carefully placing the clay on her own wheel. I wet my hands before I get the wheel turning and try to centre the clay on it. Katniss turns to watch me as I get the clay centred and ready to be moulded.

"Just watch and copy what I do," I say as I keep the clay turning in my hands.

Katniss nods her head and a bit of hair falls across her face. She goes to stroke it behind her ear and I don't say anything as she leaves a big streak of clay right across her cheek. She takes a deep breath to focus before turning her own wheel on and trying to copy what I did just moments earlier. It takes her longer than I did but she eventually manages to get the clay centred and I then begin calling out soft instructions to show her how to mould the mug.

I keep my eyes on my mug as I shout my instructions and assume Katniss is keeping up. I've dabbled in pottery since high school and I took a class on it. I find it very therapeutic and a great way to clear my head. I think I annoy Cashmere with the amount of clay mugs and plates I've made her over the years.

I've almost finished my mug when I look over to Katniss to see how she is doing. Unfortunately she hasn't kept up as well as I hoped. She has more clay smeared across her face and arms and her mug looks more like a lump of rock than a drinking utensil. I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing and kill my wheel so I can go and help her.

Katniss huffs in frustration as she sees me rise to come help her. She stops her own wheel as she waist for me to come up behind her.

"You make it look so easy," she whines.

I smile as I pull up a stool and sit behind her. I turn the wheel back on and reach round to centre the clay again for her.

"You've just got to be patient," I say, my chest gently pressing against her. "I'll show you how to mould the clay best."

Katniss watches me carefully as I pick up her hands and put them round the lump of clay in the middle. I keep my hands on top of hers as I show her how to push and then pull the clay into shape. She's silent for a moment as she lets me guide her but then she twists her head round to look back at me.

"I feel like _Unchained Melody_ should be playing right now. This is a scene straight out of _Ghost_ ," she says.

I laugh and our hands slip a little but I catch us and keep her hands manipulating the clay.

"I promise I'm not trying to seduce you," I chuckle in her ear.

Katniss scoffs as she turns back to concentrate on her hands.

"Johanna says I should be careful. According to the tabloids you've had your fair share of attractive rising stars," she says.

I cringe a little at hearing the words come from her lips. I hate that is the image of me that has been portrayed but I can't say it is entirely untrue.

"I've had my fun but I know when the right girl comes along I'll be one hundred per cent committed to her," I reply.

Katniss squirms a little in my grip but doesn't say anything in return. Sometimes I think she is the right girl. I haven't been interested in any other girl since she came back to LA and I think about her way more than I should. I've never taken any girl I dated before pottery making. It was always a private thing I wanted to keep to myself but I find myself wanting to share everything with Katniss.

"I'm sure you'll find that girl soon. You're too charming for your own good at times," Katniss says, brushing off my comment.

I force a smile and agree with her before we both fall silent and finish the mug. It doesn't take much longer and Katniss leans back with a pleased smile as she admires her handiwork. She twists her head round to look at me with a grin.

"Thank you for helping me. It's much better than the attempt Dad and I had when I was twelve," she says.

"No problem," I say as I wipe my clay covered hands on a towel.

Katniss grins at me proudly and her eyes sparkle with joy. She has clay covered all over her face and quite a few of hairs have come loose in her braid. She looks very messy and unkempt and I don't think I have ever thought her more beautiful.

I reach out to wipe a bit of clay off her nose and hold my finger up for her to see.

"I think you need a shower. I've seen toddlers less messy than you," I say.

Katniss raises her eyebrows at me and crosses her arms across her chest.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't be as perfect looking as you," she says with a grin.

I laugh and tip my head in closer to her. Our noses are only inches away.

"Perfection is in the eye of the beholder. Have you sneakily trying to check me out again?" I say cheekily.

Katniss narrows her eyes at me and we are stuck staring at each other for a long time. This close to her I smell her earthy and woody scent and it is better than any expensive perfume my sister has ever bought. My heart rate begins to pick up and my eyes drop to look at Katniss' rosy lips. The thought of leaning down and kissing them enters my head and I almost decide to do it when I feel a bit of clay water flick into my eyes.

I look up to find Katniss grinning at me cheekily and her hands poised to flick more dirty water at me. The moment is gone and I pull back and straighten up.

"I can't believe you just did that," I say. "So childish."

But then I duck down and flick some water in her direction. Katniss shrieks a little as she jumps up and dances away from me.

"You've declared war now, Mellark," she says.

I can only grin back as I stalk towards her and we spend the rest of the time chasing each other around the pottery centre and spraying each other with clay water.

* * *

We both shower when we get back to the house and afterwards I go and sit in the living room, water droplets still dripping from my hair. PK is scratching up against his kitty post and I bend down and waggle a piece of string in front of him. Immediately he stops scratching and tilts his head to the side as he watches me wriggle the string. Eventually he sticks a paw out to swipe at it and I watch on amused as he chases the string in the air.

Not long after Katniss comes down the stairs. She's just stepped out of the shower too and her face is fresh and free of any make-up. She wears only a white vest top and grey athletic shorts and she is tying her damp hair up into her familiar braid as she enters the living room. I immediately stop moving the bit of string in the air to admire her. This allows PK to grab hold of the string and he tugs it out of my hand and starts playing with it on the floor. Katniss notices this and lets out a light laugh.

"I think you lost the game," she chuckles.

I laugh too and scratch the back of my head before leaving PK to it and getting up to join Katniss on the couch. She curls her feet underneath her as ties the end of her braid and flicks it over her shoulder.

"Well, I won the clay war so I'm not too heartbroken," I state with a grin.

"You won the clay war?" Katniss says raising an eyebrow. "I was the one to flick the final shot!"

"But you were the one covered in more clay," I counter.

"I had more clay on me to start with!" she exclaims.

I raise my eyebrow at her, a small amused grin on my face. Katniss narrows her eyes at me and we get stuck staring at each other. We're both stubborn and neither of us are willing to concede but a crashing sound forces our attention away. We both quickly look in the direction of PK and discover he has managed to knock one of Cashmere's vases over. Thankfully it doesn't shatter and Katniss gets up to pick up the flowers and put the vase upright.

As she gets up I catch a glimpse of a tattoo on her right shoulder blade. It is partly obscured by the strap of her top but I think it may be some sort of bird. Katniss sits the vase back upright, gently scolding PK before coming back over to me.

"You have a tattoo," I point out.

Katniss' hand immediately reaches around her back to trace the outline of the bird on her shoulder. She grows a bit solemn as she sits back down and brings her hand back round to wrap her arms around her body.

"It's a mockingjay," she replies.

"Like the bird in your dad's song?" I ask.

Katniss nods her head and brings her knees up so she can tuck her chin on them. _Mockingjay_ had been Heath's biggest hit. The album it was on went triple platinum and it is one of the most covered songs on all those reality TV singing contests. However none are a patch on the original.

Katniss doesn't say anything for a moment and I wonder if I have over stepped my boundaries. I finally feel like we were bonding properly today and I would hate to ruin that. Eventually she raises her head to speak.

"Dad used to call Prim and I his little mockingjays. They were his favourite birds because of their ability to repeat any note sung at them. He used to say I sung sweeter than them. I got this just after he died," Katniss replies.

She hugs her knees closer and averts her eyes. I can empathise with her situation. Slowly I bring my arm out and twist it round to show Katniss the dandelion tattoo on the inside of my upper left arm.

"Me too. My dad used to call Cashmere and I his little dandelions because of our golden head of hair. He said that dandelions always represented hope for him. I got this tattoo just after he died two years ago," I reply.

Katniss looks surprised and brings her eyes back up to look at me.

"I'm sorry," she says.

I shrug my shoulders.

"Dad was in his seventies and died in his own bed. I got to spend twenty-three great years with him and as long as I remember him, part of him with always be here," I reply.

Katniss nods her head in understanding.

"It seems we're not as different as you think," I add.

There is just a hint of a smile on Katniss' face as she nods her head. I smile back and like that we can talk like this together.

* * *

Friday night arrives and with it Katniss' first performance of her soon to be released single. Finnick and I are both going along for moral support and Finnick parks on a street near the club Katniss is playing in. As soon as we step out the car camera bulbs flash in our faces and photographers begin shouting our names. I do my best to smile in their direction while subtly ignoring their questions as we make our way into the club. Normally I would have snuck in the back but photographs of Finnick and I attending Katniss' gig will boost her profile. This is one thing I can do to help her.

Finnick is a lot better at handling the photographers than I am and smiles and waves as we make our way in. A group of young women spot all the fuss with the photographers and their eyes light up when they realise it is Finnick and I. They all rush over with excited squeals as they begin requesting autographs and selfies. Finnick and I stop and smile politely as we fulfill their requests. One even manages to reach up and give me a kiss on the cheek.

Finnick looks over amusedly as the girls gush about how much they love us and ask about my painting inspirations.

"Enjoy it, Peet! You never know how long it will last!" he exclaims above the girls' head.

I give him a forced smile and try to nod my head. I never used to mind the attention girls paid me because I was famous. I was flattered by their admiration but over the last couple of weeks I've realised how fake their affection is. I feel guilty about taking advantage of it in the past.

The girls eventually leave us, heads bent together as they whisper excitedly about how they just met Peeta Mellark and Finnick Odair. I'm sure the pictures of us will be on social media in a matter of moments.

I shake my head as I watch them leave and turn to find Finnick grinning at me.

"You didn't seem to use your usual charm. Dare I suggest it is because you are thinking about a certain grey eyed beauty with the voice of an angel?" Finnick says.

I elbow him in the ribs as I turn to enter the building.

"Will you give it a rest for once? This night is about Katniss and not my feelings for her," I say.

"Ah ha! You admit you have feelings for her! Now you just need to use that charm that has worked to great effect in the past," Finnick says.

"Katniss isn't like that," I say shaking my head. "She's not interested in me or any kind of relationship."

Finnick laughs and shakes his head.

"I can't believe you bought her that mockingjay pin. If she isn't aware how you feel about her by now she will after you give her that," he says.

My fingers immediately reach into my pants pocket to curl around the small gold pin I had found in an antique shop today. I hadn't meant to find anything for Katniss but as soon as I saw this pin I knew I had to give it to her. After our conversation about our fathers I know it will be a way for it to feel like her father is with her tonight.

I don't have any time to reply to Finnick though because another car pulls up outside the club and all the photographers turn their attention towards it. Seconds later the car door opens and I see a long slender leg emerge. The chauffeur reaches his hand in to help the occupant and slowly my sister's head appears. Cashmere already has a smile plastered onto her face and she waves at the awaiting photographers. They go crazy when they see her and the clicks of the cameras go off in rapid succession.

My sister is wearing a figure hugging red dress with a large slit up the side. Her golden hair is piled on top of her head and held together with a diamond head piece. She is extremely over dressed for this type of gig.

Cashmere spends a long time posing for photographs and answering the journalists' questions. She brushes off any question about Katniss and always manages to bring the conversation back round to her. I stand watching her with a shake of my head. When she eventually leaves the photographers behind I'm looking at her coldly.

"I thought you weren't coming," I say. "Do you really think you can upstage Katniss?"

"I'm here to support my step-daughter," Cashmere says as she turns to give the photographers one last wave.

"Bullshit. Don't lie to me, Cash. Remember I actually know you," I say.

"I'm just here to remind everyone who they should be talking about," she replies.

She then brushes past me and struts into the club. I can feel my blood begin to boil. It's time like this that I really don't like my sister.

Finnick senses my tension and slaps a hand on my back.

"Come on, bro. Let's go and give Katniss that pin. I know you want to see her before she goes on," he says.

I nod my head as I watch Cashmere go and try to focus on the reason I came here in the first place. I want to show Katniss my support and will do everything in my power to make sure Cashmere doesn't ruin things for her.

I'm a little nervous as Finnick and I approach Katniss' dressing room door. I twiddle with the mockingjay pin in my pocket and begin to question my sense of giving it to her. Maybe Finnick is right and it will make it obvious that I have some feelings for her.

I curse myself for acting like such a wimp. I'm never normally this nervous around girls. In fact it is an area I'm normally confident in. But from the moment I met Katniss I knew she was different from all the other girls I met before.

Finnick ends up knocking for me and I tell myself to pull it together as my feet jitter against the floor. Katniss' voice floats through the door and I take a deep breath before I step inside. She sits on a dressing room chair, her brown flowing down her back. She wears a short leather skirt and a long sleeved white blouse. Her eyes are heavy with make-up and her lips shine with gloss. She looks smoking hot but I can't help but think I preferred the fresh face version of her I saw a few days ago.

My eyes go straight to her and she gives me a nervous smile. Her smile relaxes me a little but then my eyes take in the whole room and see her friends, Gale and Johanna, standing in the corner. Great. I was nervous about giving her the pin in the first place but the nerves get even worse at the thought of having to do it in front of her two very protective and sarcastic friends.

Johanna smirks at me when I enter while Gale glares at me. My palms begin to sweat and Finnick has to nudge me in the back to get me to speak.

"Hey," I say a little awkwardly. "I wanted to wish you luck before you went on. Not that I think you are going to need it."

Katniss smiles at me gratefully while Johanna tries to bite back a laugh.

"Thank you," Katniss replies. "I can't believe how many people Plutarch got to come to this thing."

"They'll all be big fans by the time you leave," I say. "Though I should warn you. Cashmere is here and in a dress that screams attention."

"That bitch can't handle not being centre of attention," Johanna says bitterly.

I'm a little shocked by her use of words but can't help but agree with her.

"Katniss is going to smash it out there tonight," Gale says trying to calm the situation.

"Thanks for all your faith in me, guys. I wouldn't be here without you," Katniss replies.

She gives us all appreciative smiles but her gaze lingers on me longer than the rest. My heart beat begins to pick up and my feet get jittery again, a fact that does not go unnoticed by Johanna.

"You look like you are about to pee you pants, Mellark. What's got you all agitated?" she asks with a smile that suggests she know exactly what has made me anxious.

I turn to look at Finnick for encouragement and he gives me a reassuring smile. I calm my feet and take the few steps towards Katniss so I am standing in front of her. I dig into my pocket to pick out the mockingjay pin and present it to her.

"I saw this pin today and thought about you instantly. I thought you can wear it as a way to keep your dad close to you while you're performing," I say.

Katniss looks astonished as she reaches out to take the pin from my hand. She examines it closely while I chew on my lip nervously. I feel the stares of Johanna and Gale on me and can guess that they know exactly what me giving this pin means. Katniss eventually pulls her head back to look at me with awe.

"This is amazing. Thank you," she says.

And then before I even realise what is happening, Katniss pushes off her chair and wraps her arms around me. The hug is brief as she pulls back quickly and gives me a shy smile before turning to Johanna to show her the pin. I am left dumbstruck as I can still smell the soft sent of pine on her skin and feel the impression where her hand briefly pressed against me. Slowly a smile spreads across my face as I watch Katniss pin the gift onto her blouse.

"Good luck, Katniss. I can't wait to hear you," I say.

Katniss gives me one last grateful smile before Finnick and I turn to leave in order to get a good spot to watch her.

Plutarch did a really good job promoting the gig and the place is packed with people all eager to hear Katniss sing. Cashmere has positioned herself near the front and is talking to a bunch of journalists. I just know she is trying to persuade them to be derogatory towards Katniss. I am about to push my way over to stop her when all the lights go black and Plutarch walks onto the stage. A single spotlight illuminates him and the whole crowd goes quiet as they wait to hear him speak.

"Welcome everybody! You are in for a real treat! Six years ago we were all saddened by the loss of one of America's greatest musical talents. Heath Everdeen changed country music forever and the music industry will be forever grateful for his contribution. But we didn't come here today to dwell on the past. We came here to celebrate the future! Heath's daughter, Katniss, has a voice more wonderful than bird song. I'm already a huge fan and I know by the end of the night you will be too!" Plutarch declares.

There is a round of applause and I find myself holding my breath as I wait for Katniss to go on. I don't think I have ever wanted someone to succeed as much as her.

"So without further ado, let me introduce to you, for the very first time, Katniss Everdeen!" Plutarch adds.

Yet more applause and Plutarch shuffles off stage. The lights go black again and there is a small murmuring in the crowd. Suddenly a flame thrower at the front of the stage ignites and causes the crowd to all jump and gasp. Another flame thrower goes off and the two alternate as the first few notes of the song play. The build up to the song is long but heightens the anticipation in the room. Just as the main beat of the song kicks in a single spotlight snaps on and lights up Katniss in the middle of the stage. She pulls her head up slowly, gaining eye contact with the audience before she sings her first line. As soon as she opens her mouth to sing she captivates the whole room.

Everyone stands frozen for a moment as they let the sound of what they are hearing sink in. There really is no other voice like it in the music industry. But after the audience get over the shock of how good Katniss is, many start clapping and cheering as they dance along.

The song is called _On the Road_ and is about the times Katniss followed her dad on tour. It's an upbeat song that perfectly encapsulates the crazy nature of a child growing up in that environment. The nervous Katniss I saw in the dressing room is gone and the confident, sassy girl that I only ever see on stage struts about and commands everyone's attention. I can't stop the smile on my face as I bob along. I don't know if I have ever been more proud of someone in my life.

There is thundering applause once the song finishes and the whoops and cheers go on long after it ends. The slightly shy and reserved girl comes back and Katniss almost looks embarrassed by all the cheering she receives. She clutches the microphone tightly and smiles shyly out at the audience.

"Thank you all for coming out tonight. My name is Katniss Everdeen and I hope you enjoy my show," she says only a little nervously.

Someone brings her a microphone stand and she clicks the microphone into it. She announces the next song and once again entrances the audience with her velvety tones. I can't take my eyes off her as she gains more confidence as the show goes on.

The whole place buzzes with excitement and even Johanna and Gale sidle up next to Finnick and me to share in the joy of the success of our friend. Katniss catches our eyes a few times throughout the show and beams with pride. However there is one person who is not happy with Katniss' success.

My sister doesn't once clap or dance along with the music. She spends the whole show with her eyes narrowed in Katniss' direction and her arms crossed over her chest. She eyes everyone seen to be enjoying the concert with disgust and betrayal.

So when Katniss finishes her fifth and final song Cashmere makes her move. She stalks over to the steps at the front of the stage and strides up them. The crowd stop their cheering as they see Cashmere climb up and the walk up to Katniss. Katniss looks nervous as Cashmere smiles and puts her arm around her. Cashmere takes the microphone off Katniss and looks out on to the crowd.

"Wasn't Katniss delightful? I'm _so_ proud of my step-daughter," she says less than sincerely.

She turns to Katniss as she says this and it's not pride in her eyes but envy. Katniss' face sets into a frown and Cashmere chuckles as she turns back out to the crowd.

"My poor late husband would have been devastated to have missed this night. But I know he was still here to witness it because he's still in our hearts," Cashmere says, putting her hand over her heart and sniffing back a fake tear.

Katniss struggles a little to get out of my sister's hold but Cashmere's grip is tight and she digs her nails into Katniss' arm. The crowd don't seem to be able to sense the fake praise Cashmere is dishing out and many clutch their chests, touched by my sister's words.

"I know Heath would be so proud today. And not just because of Katniss here. I know he would be proud of me too. I am so pleased to say that after eight years in the music business my fans are just as dedicated as ever. And I wanted to take this opportunity to announce an exciting development in my career," Cashmere says.

She pauses for dramatic effect and my body stiffens at her words. Now is not the time and place to make an announcement. This night it about Katniss. I'm not the only one angry with Cashmere's display as Johanna throws daggers in her direction and it is only Gale's strong arm stopping her from charging up there.

"I am so excited to announce that I am going to be doing a duet with none other than Gloss Jackson!" Cashmere exclaims.

The whole crowd gasps with surprise before they all start pushing forward demanding answers to their questions. Gloss Jackson is the biggest male artist in the business at the moment. He was in a 90s boyband but managed to transition into more adult solo material. He is known the world over and his last album was the fastest selling in the history of the industry. An announcement of a duet with him is big news.

Johanna, Gale, Finnick and I are all jostled as people try to get closer to my sister. Some journalists manage to clamber onto the stage and fire questions at her. Katniss is pushed to the back and forgotten.

I glare at my sister and when she eventually pulls her eyes to look in my direction she gives me a cunning smile that sends anger through my bones.

* * *

 **A/N: Cashmere is a piece of work, isn't she? She will not handle Katniss' rise to fame well.**

 **I hope people are not to disappointed that we didn't see the dinner Peeta set up at the end of the last chapter. Hopefully the pottery scene made up for it. Everlark are only going to continue to grow closer in the next few chapters.**

 **Thanks to everyone that keeps reading. Your support keeps me writing!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5

 _Katniss_

The crowd scream and cheer my name as chants for another encore erupt. My smile is huge as I blow a kiss to the audience and wave goodbye. I catch sight of my escort waving madly to get me to come off. We have a plane to catch in an hour. I give the crowd one last wave before I dash off the stage and am engulfed into Effie's awaiting arms.

"Honestly, Katniss. I told you that you could have a five minute encore not a fifteen minute one! We're behind schedule now!" Effie exclaims.

She wraps a leather jacket over my red dress and ushers me out of the building. She brushes some confetti out of my hair and fusses over the state of my make-up. I just check that the mockingjay pin Peeta gave me is still securely attached.

Effie has been my escort for the last three weeks as I have toured the country, performing in various clubs and shopping centres to promote my new single. She is very LA with platinum blonde hair, heavily botoxed face and a different designer outfit every day. Today she is wearing a wide ruffled purple skirt that makes her look like a human pompom. However, she is a stickler for good manners and schedules and has been vital in getting me from place to place while I have struggled to remember what day of the week it is.

"I'm sorry, Effie. I just wasn't expecting that reaction," I say.

"Yes," Effie says hurriedly. "The show went really well but we won't get to the next one if we don't hurry."

Effie rushes us out the door, where there are some fans waiting for some autographs. Effie lets me spend five minutes scrawling my name and taking selfies before she politely tells the fans we have to leave and ushers me into the car. I'm still signing someone's notebook as Effie pushes my head into the car.

The car door barely closes before we zoom off towards the airport. The huge smile is still on my face as I sink back into the car seat and my legs jiggle as I feel giddy from my performance just moments ago. Effie has her cell phone already strapped to her ear as she rattles off instructions to the team that will be coming with us to San Francisco. I don't dare disturb her as she works.

I allow myself a few moments to bask in my show tonight. It has been a tiring three weeks as I have gone from city to city, doing countless radio interviews and performing in the night. The reaction I have got from each place has been amazing and far exceeded my expectations. Word is getting out about my music and even Cashmere's duet with Gloss Jackson can't stop the tidal wave of support I am building.

I'm just loving performing. It is like a drug and I'm addicted. There is no better high. And the messages of support I get from fans assure me that at least some people get the same joy out of my music as me.

After a quiet moment of reflection I pull out my phone to check my messages. There are several from Plutarch and the record label, one from Gale wishing me luck and a couple of rude ones from Johanna. At the very end is a message from Peeta. I open it to find he has sent me a picture.

In the picture he is sitting, shirtless, somewhere in the house holding PK. Peeta pulls a sad face while PK droops his ears, making him look upset. The caption below the message reads: _PK and I miss you. Xxx_

I smile when I see it and don't even think as my fingers move to call him back. He picks up on the third ring and sounds bright and cheery when he answers.

"So are you looking after my cat properly?" I ask once he picks up.

Effie gives me a sideways glance as she notices I am speaking to someone and Peeta chuckles on the other end of the line.

"We've really bonded while you've been away. Today we both chased a ball of yarn and had sardines for dinner," Peeta replies.

I smile again and clutch the phone closer to me year as I sink further back into the car seat. My perception of Peeta has greatly changed over the last few weeks. He was furious after Cashmere's announcement at my first gig and the next day went on social media to tell all his fans that they should check me out. He made no mention of Cashmere's duet with Gloss Jackson. In the end I think he was angrier about the whole situation than I was.

He's dropped most of the cocky bravado when he's around me and I've learned that he is an honest, genuine guy that can be a bit goofy at times. He messages me nearly every day with words of support and now there is barely a day that goes by where I don't talk to him.

"I hope you aren't trying to steal my cat away from me," I say with a grin.

"No. PK still misses his mommy. I have to play your song to get him to go to sleep," Peeta replies.

I laugh before I sigh and run a tired hand through my hair.

"Not long left now. Four more stops and I'll be back in LA again," I say.

"But it's been fun, right? You've loved performing in all the different places?" Peeta asks.

"It's been great. It exactly why I wanted to do this but I miss home. It's a bit lonely with only Effie for company," I say.

"You'll be home soon. Johanna is already planning a massive party for when you get back. I'll warn you now that she has booked male strippers," Peeta says.

I laugh again as I twirl a strand of hair around my finger. Peeta is fast becoming the person I call whenever I feel a little bit down.

"It's San Francisco next, right?" Peeta asks.

"Yes," I confirm. "I've got a friend from England meeting me there. She's never seen me perform like this."

"She'll love you," Peeta says.

We then spent the rest of the car journey talking about nothing in particular until we arrive at the airport and Effie tells me to put my phone away. I regretfully hang up the phone as Effie rushes about, making sure everything correct is on the private plane and I wish that my friends were hear to keep me company.

* * *

The next day there is an elegant blonde girl with porcelain skin and cornflower blue eyes waiting for me in the lobby of the hotel. My eyes light up when I see her and I dash over to her to give her a warm hug. Madge giggles as I hug her and shakes her head as we pull back.

"I can't believe I'm here to watch you perform a gig! I'm so excited to be your groupie tonight," she says with a bright smile.

She slips her arm through mine and Effie sighs and huffs as she looks at her watch. Clearly she didn't schedule catching up with an old friend today.

I first met Madge at the all-girl boarding school that I went to just after my dad died. Her dad was Mayor of London at the time and is now a member of the cabinet in the UK government so you would expect her to be a bit of a snob. But that couldn't be further from the truth. She ended up being my roommate and was one of the few people at the school who didn't see me as just a trashy American. Our universities were nearby and we often made the short train journey to enjoy a drunken night out and catch up.

"Thanks for coming out here. I'll need you to cheer for me and convince the rest of the audience I am any good," I say.

"I'll definitely be cheering for you but I don't think I'll need to convince the rest of the crowd. I was reading this article on the flight over. It sounds like you're a big hit already!" Madge replies.

She shows me a magazine article that she's carrying under her arm. I blush when I see it. Plutarch commissioned the piece and it's more than a bit complementary about me. It talks a lot about my relationship with my dad and how I am carrying on his legacy. I get a little embarrassed whenever too much praise is heaped on me.

Madge is studying the article closely, in particular the small side article about my famous fans. She tilts her head to the side as she looks at the pictures of two of my biggest celebrity supporters.

"You've got some attractive celebrity followers. Does Finnick Odair really think you are the hottest thing in the music industry since Cashmere and who on earth is Peeta Mellark?" Madge asks.

I snatch the magazine off her and stuff it away. Madge raises an eyebrow at me.

"Peeta is Cashmere's brother. He's looking after my cat while I'm away," I reply.

Madge looks even more surprised.

"And how come I'm only hearing about him now? He's hot. Is something going on between you two?" she asks.

"Do you honestly think I would fool around with Cashmere's brother?" I reply, shaking my head fiercely.

Madge doesn't look convinced. I sigh as I look down at the ground.

"I don't have time for a relationship now anyway," I mumble.

Madge doesn't say anything more but the knowing smile on her lips tell me exactly what she thinks.

* * *

Madge comes with me to the radio stations and shouts words of encouragement while I rehearse for the night. It's really nice to have her with me to help handle all of Effie's stressed ramblings. Madge makes me giggle throughout the day whenever Effie goes off on one by pulling silly faces and imitating my up-tight escort.

I collapse on the hotel bed after the long hours of rehearsal and Madge makes her way to the mini-bar to see if she can get us a little pick me up.

"I'm sure my dad won't mind paying for a little drink. What do you want? Vodka or a whiskey?" Madge asks as she bends down to inspect the contents of the fridge.

"You're a lawyer for a major fashion house in London. You can afford your own mini-bar," I point out.

Madge waves me off as she begins pulling bottles out.

"I'll give you the whiskey. I'm having gin," she replies.

Madge straightens up and saunters over to me with the drinks. I smile at her gratefully as I take the whiskey and coke off her and pour it into a nearby glass. We've just clinked our glasses together and said cheers when there is a knock on the door. I let out a heavy sigh as I think it is probably Effie telling me I have to be someplace else. However I'm pleasantly surprised when I open the door still holding the whiskey and coke in my hand. On the other side is Finnick, Gale, Johanna and Peeta.

Johanna flicks her eyes down to the drink in my hands and smirks.

"Started the party without us, brainless," she says as she makes her way into the room, snatching the drink out of my hand.

The rest of the group follow after her, putting down their bags on the ground and making themselves at home in my hotel room. I turn to look at them with shock and disbelief.

"What are you guys doing here?" I ask amazed.

Johanna bounces on to the end of the bed, next to Madge, and takes a long sip of my drink.

"We thought we'd come and surprise you!" Finnick exclaims, putting his arms around my waist and lifting me up.

I put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself and shake my head in disbelief.

"You didn't have to do this," I say as the smile spreads across my face.

Finnick puts me back on the ground and Gale, who had been bending down to look in the mini-bar, straightens up with a beer in his hand and a smile on his face.

"It was Peeta's idea," Gale says. "He mentioned you were feeling a bit lonely and we all missed you."

Peeta looks a bit embarrassed and shuffles on his feet as he scratches the back of his neck.

"I hope you don't mind," he says.

I shake my head as I walk towards him. I wrap my arms around him and pull him in tight.

"Thank you for doing this," I mumble into his ear and he smiles when I pull back.

I can feel every pair of eyes in the room on us and can guess that they all have smug smiles on their faces. I drop my arms from around Peeta and take a few steps back from him, not wanting my friends to get the wrong idea.

"I checked PK into a kitty hotel so you don't have to worry about Cashmere sending him to the shelter," Peeta adds.

I nod my head in thanks before turning back to greet the rest of the room. I expected Madge to be a bit overwhelmed by all the new people but when I turn to check on her I notice that she and Gale are making eyes at each other from across the room. She gives him a secret smile before she takes a sip of her drink. I roll my eyes at the display as I walk over to introduce her properly.

"Everyone this is Madge. My best friend from England," I say. I then go round the room introducing her to my other friends.

Gale doesn't take her eyes off her the entire time and Madge's eyes always flick back to him as I go round the room.

"So you're English. Got to love a girl with an accent," Gale says as he shakes her hand.

Madge bats her eyelashes at him as she coyly shakes it.

"I'm a lot more than an accent," she replies.

Johanna rolls her eyes and picks herself off the end of the bed. She makes her way to Gale and rests an arm on his shoulder.

"I didn't come up here to watch you flirt, Gale. I'm here to hear Katniss sing," she says.

I smile at her gratefully as Gale shakes his head and Finnick and Johanna begin planning this evening's itinerary. Peeta catches my eye and gives me a reassuring smile. It feels good to see them all again.

They all join me at the venue for my performance tonight but Effie pushes them out of my dressing room as she helps me get ready for the night. She scolds my make-up artist for putting too much make-up on me and shoves her to the side to wipe my face clean and start again.

"Honestly. I feel like I'm working with a bunch of amateurs," she complains.

She picks up a brush and begins sweeping eye-shadow across my lids.

"Everything is so behind schedule today. Next time you invite your friends please do me the decency to inform me so I can make the appropriate rearrangements," she says.

"I didn't know that they were coming." I reply.

"Mmm. You certainly have a lot of handsome friends. That Finnick Odair in particular is a rascal. He winked at me as he left the room," she says.

"They are just my friends," I say with a laugh.

"And that's how it should be. A talented young girl like you doesn't need a young man to make her complete," Effie says.

"They are good material for songs though," I joke.

Effie looks appalled and gently swots me on the arm.

"Men are certainly not just there for you to write break-up songs about. I'd have thought your father would have raised you better than that," she says.

I smile at her gratefully and get up to give her a short hug. She looks a little surprised but does return the hug briefly.

"Thanks for looking out for me, Effie. I couldn't have done the last three weeks without you," I say.

Effie looks genuinely touched and smiles at me appreciatively. She picks up a hair brush to brush out some of the tangles before getting me to stand up ready for her to inspect.

"Thank you, Katniss," she says. "You really are a good a person as you are a singer."

We share a small quiet moment before Effie looks away and brings me the sparkly purple jacket I'm wearing on stage tonight. She puts it over the black bralet I am wearing and then adds the final touch to my outfit; the gold mockingjay pin Peeta gave to me. I wear it every night I perform now and it really does feel like Dad is with me when I sing.

Once Effie has secured the pin I lean down to give her a kiss on the cheek and she hands me the microphone to go out onto the stage. I wait in the wings for a moment as they announce me on stage and there is loud cheering as they wait for me to come on. I take a deep breath as the butterflies swirl about my stomach before putting on my most confident smile and stepping out onto the stage.

The bright lights blind me momentarily and it takes a minute to get my bearings but slowly my eyes adjust to the new light and I look out onto the crowd. I think this is the biggest crowd I've had yet and I can't even make out the people at the back. My eyes scan the crowd for any sign of my friends and it is Peeta's blond curls that I see first. He beams at me and I hear Johanna whistle loudly from beside him. The excitement multiples inside of me and I can't wait to get started.

"Good evening San Francisco! How's everyone doing this evening? I'm Katniss Everdeen and thank you for coming out tonight. I think we're going to have some real fun," I announce. The crowd whoop in approval. "My first song tonight is called _On the Road_. My manager told me to tell you all to go out and buy it when it comes out next month. Hope you enjoy it."

I wait for the crowd to settle down again before tipping my head to get the sound crew to start playing the track. The first beats of the song begin to play and I feel that familiar feeling of joy and excitement as I wait to sing. I can't imagine wanting to do anything else.

* * *

The show is another success and the crowd make me sing three more songs at the end of the set. My eyes kept flitting back to my group of friends throughout the performance and their smiling and proud faces gave me a boost every time. I notice Gale and Madge gravitate closer together as the night goes on but my eyes always seem to draw back to Peeta.

When I enter my dressing room at the end of the show they are all there waiting for me and jump on me as they wrap me in a massive group hug.

"You were amazing, Katniss! You're going to have to try and crack the UK too! I need your songs in my life!" Madge exclaims enthusiastically.

"I think I orgasmed in the middle of the crowd. Your songs are that good, brainless," Johanna adds.

I shake my head as the group release their hold on me and I finally get some air to breathe. Everyone talks excitedly about my performance and the plans for celebrating afterwards but I find I'm waiting to hear what Peeta has to say. I search for him amongst the huddle of people and we lock eyes. He gives me a proud smile and steps a little towards me.

"Incredible. I can't believe how much you've grown in confidence. You owned the stage up there," he says.

I blush a little and avert my eyes to the ground.

"I never imagined that it would go this well," I admit.

Peeta smiles kindly at me and throws an arm around my shoulder.

"You deserve it. Life hasn't been kind to you and you deserve some happiness in it," he says.

I smile at him gratefully as Johanna and Finnick begin squabbling about the best place to go to afterwards. I frown a little and Peeta doesn't remove his arm from around me.

"Their arguing is pointless. Effie isn't going to let me go out," I say.

"Don't worry about it. I got it sorted. I managed to charm Effie enough to convince her to let you go out tonight," Peeta says, looking down at me with a cheeky grin.

"You really have super powers. Effie hates anything that is not on the schedule," I reply.

"Turns out she really loves my work. I promised her two original sketches if she allowed us to take care of you tonight," he replies.

"You never cease to amaze me, Peeta Mellark," I laugh.

"Good," Peeta says lowering his head towards mine. I get stuck staring into his blue eyes. "You might just let me stay around then."

He holds my gaze for a moment before pulling back and facing the rest of the group. My heart hammers in my chest.

Finnick and Johanna have finally settled on a place to go and everyone begins gathering up their things. I quickly slip off the sequined jacket and slip a sheer black blouse over my bralet instead before everyone heads out of the building.

When we open the door to go outside there is a huge crowd of people waiting on the steps, all waving cell phones and pieces of paper in our direction. I look over at Finnick, the most famous of our group, and shout over to him.

"Finnick, your adoring fans are waiting for you!" I shout.

However Finnick just smiles and shakes his head at me.

"These guys aren't waiting for me. They're all here for you, Katniss," he calls back.

I am shocked by his words and can't believe they are true. There must be nearly a hundred people here. They can't all want my autograph. But then I focus in on them and realise that they are calling my name. I blindly reach out and sign someone's poster before another one is quickly shoved in front of my face. It's very overwhelming but I don't want to miss anyone out. Finnick and Peeta help out by providing autographs and photos for the fans that are waiting patiently for me. It amazes me that people could be this excited to see me.

"Get used to this, Katniss. You're about to hit the big time," Finnick says over the heads of all the eager fans.

I don't think I'm ever going to get used to this kind of reaction.

* * *

We arrive at the trendy club and there is a line that goes round the corner to get in. I sigh when I see the size of the line. By the time we get inside I won't be in the mood for dancing any more. But to my surprise Finnick doesn't seem to be disheartened. He heads straight for the front of the line and flashes the bouncers his most winning smile.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he says. "Busy night I see."

The bouncers eye him warily but I detect a hint of recognition in their eyes. A few other patrons in the line recognise Finnick as well and begin whispering and pointing in his direction.

"Why don't you take your top off!" one over-zealous fan shouts.

I grow a little comfortable that all the eyes now seem to be on us but Finnick takes it all in his stride. He even pulls the end of his shirt up to show the crowd a glimpse of his well-defined abdominal muscles. There is a series of cheers and wolf whistles from the line and Finnick laughs good naturedly. The bouncers roll their eyes.

"I suppose you want us to let you all in," one of the bouncers says.

Finnick grins wider and then grabs my arm to pull me in front of him.

"Would you mind? Our friend, Katniss, just smashed a gig downtown. You might have heard her song. _On the Road_?" Finnick says.

"You're Katniss Everdeen?" he asks with a raised eyebrow. "I heard your song on the radio the other day and it was the first song in a long time that didn't make me want to change station."

I smile at him and shift about a little uncomfortably on my feet. It seems Plutarch is doing a very good job of getting my song heard.

"Yeah, that's me," I reply.

The bouncer beams and fumbles about his pocket to pull out a bit of paper.

"You can all come in," he says stepping aside. He then hands me the bit of paper with a pen. "Can I get your autograph? I've got a feeling it's going to be worth a lot someday soon."

I smile at him again as I nod my head and quickly scrawl my name on the bit of paper. There are shouts of delight from Johanna and Gale as they slap me on the shoulder on their way into the club. Peeta waits for me to finishing signing the bit of paper before giving me a reassuring smile and walking with me into the club. He places a soft hand on my back as he steps aside to let a guy pass and gently steers me in the direction of the bar. A warm tingle runs up my whole body as we catch up with the rest.

Johanna leans against the bar firing off a long drinks order to the bartender. Finnick is busy chatting to some female fans that spotted him right away while Gale and Madge stand rather closely together as Gale bends down to whisper something in her ear. Madge's smile tells me she is extremely glad to have flown out to see me this weekend. Peeta gently guides me towards Johanna and she flashes me a grin as she turns to hand everyone a shot.

"Hawthorne, forget about your dick for a moment and come and drink. Everyone is doing two shots before we go off to do our own thing," Johanna declares.

Peeta and I share an amused grin as we accept our shots off Johanna. Gale scowls but does manage to pry himself away from Madge for a second to get his drink. Finnick turns away from the girls and Peeta raises his glass in the air. He turns to me with a smile.

"I think we need a toast. A toast to Katniss, a girl whose voice is so beautiful that even the birds stop to listen," he says.

My heart flutters as he pins his clear blue eyes on me and I smile back at him. I am vaguely aware of everyone else chanting "To Katniss!" before they down their shots but Peeta doesn't take a drink of his until I have raised my glass to my lips. Johanna bangs her empty shot glass down loudly on the bar and then hands the second round of shots out.

"You're real soppy, Mellark," she says as she hands him his second shot.

Peeta finally pulls his eyes away from me as he laughs good naturedly.

"What can I say? I'm an artist. We're known for being overly emotional," he jokes.

Johanna rolls her eyes and then quickly downs the second shot. Her gaze is enough to force me to down my own and I scrunch my nose up at the bitter taste of the drink. Johanna takes both our glasses and discards them before grabbing my hand and dragging me out on the dancefloor. I have just enough time to flash Peeta a grateful smile before she pulls me on the dance floor, grabbing my hips and moving us in time with the music.

No one else joins us. Gale is too busy flirting with Madge and Finnick and Peeta lean against the bar as they watch us. I soon pick up the beat of the song and twist and twirl around Johanna on the busy dance floor. Dancing is one of the few things I can do well and a smile spreads across myself as I begin to lose myself to the music.

The songs keep changing and begin to blend into one another and I begin to sneak glances in the direction of Peeta at the bar. I often find him staring at me when I look round and we share a few shy smiles as the night progresses. I can never hold his gaze for too long though as an uncomfortable heat begins to flash through my body and I turn back quickly to continue dancing with Johanna. She sticks her hand out for me to take and twirl her under. She then turns her back to me and swirls her hips in front of me.

"I wonder how long it will be before they try to remix one of your songs for a club. I wouldn't put it past Plutarch," Johanna muses.

She turns back to face me and I shake my head.

"There was a remix of one of Dad's songs a few years ago and it ruined that particular song for me," I reply.

Johanna nods her head in agreement and I twist my head round to sneak another glance at Peeta. Finnick is still talking to him and, although Peeta is nodding along to what Finnick is saying, his eyes are firmly fixed on me. He gives me another bright smile when he sees me and I smile back before ducking me head down and focusing on Johanna again. However it seems my glance in Peeta's direction was not as sly as I thought and Johanna has a smug grin on her face.

"You know that Peeta has a massive crush on you, right?" she asks.

I look down and shake my head. I don't want to have this conversation.

"You know he is technically my step uncle," I say.

Johanna scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief.

"We're just friends," I stress.

"Friends don't look at each other like that. He hasn't stopped watching you since we came up to dance," Johanna says.

I don't reply as the crowd continue to dance around us. I don't want to believe Peeta has a crush on me but the signs are there. Tonight isn't the first time I've felt his gaze on me when he thought I wasn't looking. And he's gone out of his way to support me as I have promoted my single. My fingers reach up to trace around the mockingjay pin on my blouse. This gift was something way too thoughtful from someone I have only known a couple of months.

"Peeta has crushes on a lot of girls," I eventually settle on saying.

Johanna raises her eyebrow at me and shakes her head.

"I know he was a bit of a player before but in the entire time we've known him he hasn't shown interest in any other girl. He's becoming a nun!" Johanna declares.

"I don't have time for a relationship at the moment," I reply.

"You never have time for relationships," Johanna sighs heavily. "You always end up dating guys you're not really interested in because that way there is less chance of you getting hurt. But one day you are going to get hurt because you let the wrong person go."

I stare at her amazed that she is pushing this so much. Apart from one serious relationship in college Johanna has always been about the fun when it comes to them. But she is right that I have never dated a guy I was passionate about. I've never been in love or felt that instant attraction where you have to spend every possible moment with that person. I've always thought that made you weak.

I don't answer Johanna and she doesn't push me any further. We go back to dancing but not before I turn back to take one last look at Peeta.

Finnick and Peeta eventually join us on the dancefloor as they leave Madge and Gale entwined at the bar. Finnick takes Johanna's hand and the pair of them begin putting on quite a show. They begin bumping and grinding against each other. I shake my head at them as they run their hands over each other's body. Unlike with Gale and Madge I know there is nothing sexual between Johanna and Finnick but from the moment they met they haven't been afraid to get into each other's personal space.

"How far do think they are willing to go to freak each other out?" Peeta leans in to whisper in my ear.

I jump a little as his warm breath hits the back of my neck before I twist round to find him grinning at me. I laugh and shake my head.

"I'm pretty sure Johanna is willing to strip naked," I reply.

"So is Finnick! They are perfect for each other!" he says with a laugh.

I laugh too and Peeta offers me his hand which I take so we can dance. I put a hand around his neck as he places one on my waist and he begins to gently sway me on the spot. It's completely out of time with the music but I find I don't mind.

"You might have to lead me. Dancing is not one of my strong points," he says.

"Is Peeta Mellark actually admitting he isn't good at something?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

Peeta laughs and shakes his head before he accidently steps on my toes. I wince a little and he apologies profusely.

"See. I told you I am a disaster," he says as I have to quickly step out the way to avoid his feet again.

"You just need a good teacher," I reply with a smile.

Peeta smiles back at me and I spend a few minutes trying to get him to sway in time with the music. His musky smell is intoxicating this close to him and my fingers curl deeper into the curls at the base of his neck. The crowd of bodies force us closer together until we gently press together. I struggle to hear the beat of the music over the thumping in my heart.

Peeta concentrates hard though and I laugh when he sticks his tongue out while focusing intently on the dance steps. It doesn't make much difference though as my feet continue to get trod on.

"Do you want a drink? I think I've put you through enough dancing for one night," I say with a grin.

Peeta looks a little relieved and nods his head eagerly. We quickly gesture to Finnick and Johanna to tell them where we are going before we weave our way through the crowd to get to the bar. Madge and Gale are nowhere in sight and I can only assume they called it a night and are making good use of the condoms I know Gale has in his wallet.

I push my way to the front of the bar and lean my arms against it.

"Two Jack Daniels and coke," I shout to the bartender who nods his head before going off to get our drinks.

Peeta follows so he is directly behind me and I turn to look at him.

"Is that okay?" I ask.

"As long as it's not gin, I'm good," he replies.

We share another smile but then a drunk man stumbles by and knocks into us. I'm pushed against the bar counter and I brace my hands against it to stop myself from falling. Peeta instinctively reaches out to grip my waist to steady me and a jolt of electricity surges through my body at his touch.

Peeta doesn't loosen his grip on me and I keep my eyes pinned on the bar in front of me, too scared to look round at him. The drunk guy is still wobbly on his feet and continues to stumble about. He trips over again and falls into Peeta. Peeta moves to shield my body more fully and presses me further against the bar counter. I gasp as Peeta's grip on my waist tightens again and he pushes flush against me. Peeta hears me and instinctively curls his fingers deeper into my waist. I moan at the feeling and a flash of heat licks up my body. Without thinking, I push back against Peeta and his groans. His fingers dig so deep into my skin I know I will bruise there tomorrow. I squirm underneath him and feel something long and hard against my ass. I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning as the need for friction intensifies. I didn't think Peeta could make me feel this way.

I can feel his hot breath breathing heavily against my neck and my chest rises up and down with heavy breaths. I know that if I turn round I will want to kiss him. I'm not sure that is something that I'm ready for.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself to turn around when Finnick comes bounding over and collapses beside us at the bar. Immediately Peeta's arms fall from around my waist and he drops his eyes so he is not looking at me.

"You placed your drink orders yet? Johanna wants tequila by the time she gets back from the bathroom," Finnick says.

I nod my head but tell Finnick we can add their drinks to our order. The bartender comes back with our drinks and doesn't look too impressed when Finnick adds some more on. I get money from my purse to pay for the drinks once they have finally all arrived and sneak a look at Peeta to see how he is feeling. However he is doing his best to avoid eye contact and I sigh a little disappointed as Johanna comes back from the bathroom. Maybe Finnick interrupting was a blessing in disguise. I'm not ready for that conversation with Peeta yet.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you are all enjoying Everlark growing closer. As usual everyone is more aware of Katniss' feelings than see is.**

 **I'm on holiday next week so there probably won't be an update next Monday. I hope you can wait patiently for 2 weeks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm back from my holiday and had a great time. Thanks for being patient with the update. I hope it's worth the extra long wait.**

* * *

Chapter 6

 _Peeta_

Cashmere and Katniss sit at opposite ends of the white leather couch. Katniss looks nervous as she jiggles her left foot up and down and chews on the end of her nails. Meanwhile Cashmere looks almost regal as she sits straight backed with her legs elegantly crossed. My sister seems to be doing her best to pretend that Katniss isn't even here.

Plutarch sits across from them both looking a bit flustered. He's wearing another bright outfit today, a pink and blue patchwork shirt with matching pink corduroys. He fumbles with some papers as he prepares to speak to the two singers in front of him.

I quickly type a reply to my buddy, Thresh, in Tennessee, stating I'll call him later to arrange my next visit to see him. I need to stay here and make sure World War III doesn't start. I drop down to play with PK, who is playing with some sort of light up ball, while casting glances over to check everything is still calm.

When I first heard that Plutarch wanted to meet with Katniss and Cashmere together I was instantly nervous. Tensions have been rising between the two in the house ever since Katniss got back from touring her single. Cashmere didn't take too kindly to an article stating that Katniss is going to be the biggest female star in the music industry and my sister hasn't be subtle in her dislike of her.

Plutarch manages to gather all the papers together and clears his throat before he starts speaking. Both Katniss and Cashmere look at him expectedly.

"Snow Records are pleased with the buzz for both singles. Katniss, your profile is really rising and Cashmere, the critics are calling this your best single since _Victory Tour_ ," Plutarch begins.

Cashmere smiles smugly and flashes Katniss a triumphant look. Katniss seems unperturbed by it all and ignores my sister.

"However the record company feel that even more can be done to ramp up the hype. The comparisons between you two have not got unnoticed and they want to encourage it. So they have made the decision to release your singles the same week. They want to pitch it as a battle between the two most important girls in Heath's life," Plutarch adds.

Cashmere's eyes immediately go cold and Katniss is shocked into silence. I abandon playing with PK on the floor and get up to try and help Plutarch diffuse the situation. No wonder he looked nervous when he came in.

"I don't need this kind of cheap gimmick to sell records," Cashmere says coolly.

"The internet is already pitching the battle. The company are just building on it," Plutarch replies.

"There is no battle. I am the established music star. She is unproven. To suggest otherwise is an insult to me," Cashmere snaps.

"No one is suggesting you are not talented," I say, placing a soothing hand on Cashmere's shoulder.

However it doesn't calm her and she shoots a glare in Katniss' direction.

"No, but they are suggesting that _she_ is more talented than me," Cashmere says with disgust. "She would do well to remember her place."

"I have a name. If you are going to talk about me then I would prefer you would use it," Katniss bites back.

Cashmere's nostrils flare and I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears. My grip on her shoulder tightens, stopping her from getting up and making things worse. It forces her to settle back into the couch and turn to face Plutarch again. He's gone pale and it's the first time I have seen him anything other than upbeat. He knows the dangers of Cashmere's wrath too well.

"I want to speak to Snow himself. I deserve more respect than this. Remind him that I know secrets that he wouldn't want exposed," Cashmere threatens.

"I'll call him but remember he knows secrets about you too," Plutarch replies before getting up and going outside to make a call.

Cashmere looks appalled as she watches him walk out the room and I give her shoulder a squeeze to calm her. It stops her from saying anything else that will get her into trouble but once we hear the door slam shut she whips her head round to look at Katniss coldly.

"I've let you play popstar long enough. You are never going to emulate me. All you'll ever be is Heath Everdeen's daughter. You'll never walk out of his shadow," Cashmere says callously.

For the first time I see Katniss's shoulder's deflate. I know this is her biggest fear. She wants to forge her own identify and be more than Heath's daughter.

"Stop these petty jealousies, Cash!" I exclaim. "You are both very different artists and there is room in the industry for both of you. Katniss is just trying to carve out her own place in the market."

"Where is your loyalty? Remember it was me that gave you a place to stay when you came back from France penniless. I was the one who funded those early few years when no one would buy your work. You would be nothing without me," Cashmere sneers.

Her words are a knife to the gut. I've heard her be mean to other people but not once have her acid words been aimed at me.

"Careful, sis. I'm beginning to not like you," I reply coolly.

Katniss gives me a sympathetic look but this just angers Cashmere more. She turns her attention back to Katniss.

"You may have charmed my brother but I know the real you. I have some photos that I know you wouldn't want people to see," Cashmere says.

Katniss goes pale and shakes her head.

"If you are that confident in your talent you wouldn't feel the need to blackmail me," Katniss replies.

Cashmere narrows her eyes but Katniss, to her credit, doesn't back away. They stare intently at each other for a long moment before Cashmere snaps her gaze away and pushes herself off the couch.

"Don't dare try to play me at my own game. I've been playing a lot longer than you and know how to crush you in a matter of seconds," she says.

She fires one last glare in Katniss' direction before sweeping out of the room and up the stairs.

Katniss and I are quiet for a long moment and in that time PK comes scurrying over to us. Katniss smiles fondly down at him as he bangs into her leg before bending down to pick him up. She scratches the top of his head as he swots at the fluffy cushion. I let out a heavy sigh and ruffle my curls before coming round and collapsing down next to Katniss.

"I think you are doing a great job at keeping calm round Cashmere. Most people would have been dragged into a catfight by now," I say.

"I'm not going to win in a fight with her. It's better if I just try to ignore her," Katniss replies with a shrug of the shoulders. She's quiet again for a moment before speaking again. "At times it's hard to comprehend that you two are related. You're so different."

"Cash had the hardship of living with her mom," I say with a shrug. "She spent her whole life being told that she is not beautiful or talented or smart enough. When her mom died she strived to be the best of everything. And that makes her a bitch sometimes."

Katniss raises her eyebrow as if to say "only sometimes?" I chuckle and shake my head.

"Okay more than just sometimes," I reply. "But someone's got to care about her."

"You're a loyal brother," Katniss states.

"I know that deep down Cashmere knows that too. She'll come and apologise later but I might make her grovel a bit more than usual," I say with a smile.

Katniss smiles too and the conversation comes to a natural end. For all Cashmere says and does, blood is thicker than water.

Not wanting to dwell on my sister any longer, I get up and go searching for my good sketchpad. I have something I want to show Katniss. She watches me curiously as I locate it and pad across the room to sit back down next to her. PK raises his head as I sit down and sticks out a paw to swot at the creamy pages.

"I think after this morning's revelation this is the perfect thing to show you now," I say flipping through the sketchpad until I find the page I'm looking for.

My heart begins to beat rapidly as I get nervous about Katniss seeing it. I so desperately want her to like it and wait with bated breath to see her reaction. She leans forward to get a better look and her eyes grow wide in amazement.

"Since I did the album art for Cashmere's album Plutarch asked if I would do the same for you. I hope you like it," I explain.

Katniss doesn't say anything for a long while but she stretches out her hand to trace the outlines of the picture I have drawn. It is a simple black and white sketch of Katniss and her dad, embracing and looking at each other with eyes full of love. I found a photo of this image down in the basement and knew instantly it was the perfect image to reflect the tone of Katniss' album.

Katniss traces their smiles and one begins to form on her face.

"It's perfect," she says finally looking back at me. "I remember the day this picture was taken. Dad had blown a day off recording so he could spend the whole day with me. We went hiking and fishing and spent the whole day laughing. Dad even toppled into the lake at one point!"

I let out a huge sigh of relief. I know how important her dad is to her and am glad that she can look at this image with fondness and not grief.

PK still paws at the paper and causes a little tear in the corner. Katniss reaches down to gently scold the cat.

"No, PK! You can't ruin Peeta's beautiful picture," she says.

She picks PK up and puts him down on the ground before he can do any more damage. He scampers off to some corner in the house while Katniss' eyes are drawn back to the image. She can't stop looking at it with a smile and I'm glad I can make her so happy.

After studying the picture for a long time, she sighs contentedly and hands the sketch pad back to me.

"Thank you," she says. "You keep on doing these thoughtful things for me. First PK, then the mockingjay pin and now this. I don't know what you're getting out of this friendship."

"True friends don't expect anything in return. I just like hanging out with you," I reply as I put the sketchpad down.

"I still feel bad. I really do nothing for you. How about I cook for you? I can make a mean chicken parmesan," she says.

I chuckle but a thought begins to present itself in my head. I've been too scared to ask her after what happened in the nightclub in San Francisco. I almost over stepped my boundaries there and I don't want to do it again. I value our friendship too much.

I shift a bit awkwardly and run a nervous hand through my hair. I cough lightly before I gain courage to say the words.

"You really don't have to do anything for me but if you are insistent there is one thing I was wondering if you would like to do with me," I say.

Katniss waits patiently for me to explain further and I swear that my heart thuds so loudly that she can hear it. I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans and my foot jiggles slightly on the floor.

"I won this fancy art award and I'm allowed to bring a guest when I go and accept it. I was hoping that you wouldn't mind coming with me," I say.

Katniss is still for a moment as she lets my words sink in and then her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Slowly she edges back from me and looks down as she plays with the end of her braid.

"I don't know, Peeta. Wouldn't everyone think it was a date? I don't want people talking about us like that," she replies.

My heart sinks a little at how easily she seems to dismiss the idea of the two of us going on a date. We both get on so well so why is that such a ridiculous thought? But I would rather her come as my friend than not at all.

"People make assumptions all the time. But we know what is real. It will be a lot more fun if you come with me. It's free bar and we can sit at the back making fun of all the ridiculous outfits people are wearing. You could even attempt to teach me to dance again," I say trying to sound light heartened.

"Couldn't you ask Finnick? Or Cashmere? I really don't know if asking me is the best idea," Katniss says.

My heart sinks further and I drop my eyes to look into my lap. I can't force her to come with me but there is no one else that I want there with me.

"You don't have to come if you really don't want to but it would mean a lot to me if you did," I say.

Katniss chews on her bottom lip and I can almost see the dilemma running through her head. After what seems like an eternity she reaches out and gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

"I'll think about it," she says.

I smile at her gratefully and she gives me a shy one in return. She then lets go of my hand and disappears off into the house. I turn to watch her leave before my attention is distracted by Plutarch opening the front door. He sighs heavily as he comes back in and sits down next to me.

"It's alright for Snow. He doesn't have to deal with Cashmere's temper. He's still wants the singles released at the same time," Plutarch says.

"I'll speak to Cashmere once she's calmed down. She'll listen to me," I reply.

"Thank you. You are the only person she does listen to," Plutarch says. "How's Katniss?"

"I think she's fine about it. I don't think she cares if she beats Cashmere or not. She just wants people to enjoy her music," I say.

Plutarch nods his head.

"There is not a diva bone in that girl's body. She's so much like her father," Plutarch says.

He then sighs again before sitting up straight and pulling his tablet towards him.

"I'm not going to waste any more time on your sister today. Let me focus on one of the few clients I actually like," Plutarch says. "I've got good news on that space for your gallery. The sale has finally come through and the builders will be in on Monday."

I lean forward to join Plutarch as he flicks through plans for my art gallery. I'm hoping to open it next summer and am eager for development to start. I just have to think about the prefect first show of paintings to display. We talk for a few moments about ideas and time frames before Plutarch pulls up my itinerary for the month.

"You're talking at the university next Thursday and teaching a masterclass at the end of the month. Oh! And I need to confirm your guest for the award show at the Getty Center," Plutarch rattles off.

Plutarch looks at me expectedly as he waits for my answer. I can't look at him in the eye as I reply.

"I'll have to get back to you about the award show. I'm still waiting on an answer," I say.

"Well at least you've asked someone. You haven't started seeing anyone that I don't know about, have you?" Plutarch asks.

I shake my head and pick at my nails.

"I asked a friend," I reply.

"Finnick, I suppose. Not a bad choice. You always get a few column inches when you appear together," Plutarch says as he begins tapping something on the tablet.

"It's not Finnick," I reply.

Plutarch stops what he is doing and looks up at me surprised. Finnick is my go to plus one whenever I'm not dating anyone.

"Who then? Is it someone I know?" he asks.

"I asked Katniss," I admit reluctantly.

Plutarch's eyes light up immediately and he almost knocks his tablet over in excitement.

"Peeta, you're a genius! I can't believe I didn't think about it before!" Plutarch exclaims.

"I'll take the compliment, but how am I a genius?" I ask confused.

"I can present you and Katniss as an item! The record company have been nagging me to find a suitable candidate for Katniss to be linked to and you are perfect. The tabloids will go crazy over you two!" he says enthusiastically.

"No way, Plutarch," I say shaking my head furiously. "I'm not going to pretend to be Katniss' boyfriend."

"Come now, Peeta. You know how Hollywood works. It won't be the first time you've exaggerated a relationship. At least you actually like spending time with each other," he says.

"Exactly. I don't want to ruin our friendship," I argue.

"Nonsense! You'll be gold. I just know it," Plutarch replies. He then fumbles for his phone and begins dialling a number. "Old man Snow will be in a much better mood with me after I tell him my idea."

I watch on hopelessly as Plutarch begins speaking to the head of Snow Records. I know with the old man on board Katniss will have no choice but to go to the award show with me. This is the last way I wanted her to agree to come with me.

* * *

When the night of the award show arrives I think I am more nervous about the fact I have to take Katniss than I am about actually accepting the award. She was pretty angry when she was told she would have to go as my date. Apparently there is a clause in her contract that allow Snow Records to have control of her public image, including the men she is presented as dating.

I sit waiting for her in a tux with my hair slicked back. PK chews a mouse toy by my feet and I bend down to scratch is head before looking at my watch nervously. Cashmere appears at the door and leans against it with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You would have saved yourself all these nerves if you had just asked me first," she says.

I turn to her with a heavy sigh. Cashmere is still angry with me although she did apologise for the way she spoke to me last week. But she sees this "date" with Katniss as choosing Katniss over her. I don't know how to explain things to her.

"I'll invite you to the next one," I say trying to placate her. "Besides you have a date with Gloss tonight."

Cashmere smiles and relaxes her arms across her chest. In a bid to try and beat Katniss in the battle of the singles she's now managed to manufacture a relationship with her duet partner, Gloss. I don't care if it is genuine or not. If my sister is getting laid it might lighten her up a little and she'll give me less trouble about Katniss.

But I don't get to say anything more to Cashmere as I catch sight of Katniss walking down the stairs. Her escort fiddles with bits of her hair and Katniss grips tightly to the railings as she struggles to walk down in the tight fitting dress.

I am left speechless at the sight of her descending towards me. The dress is figure hugging with a sweetheart neckline that highlights Katniss' modest cleavage. The colour of the dress is a metallic silver that makes her smoky eyes sparkle like gems. Her hair is up in some complicated braid but loose tendrils fall around her pretty face. I am left staring at her like an idiot as she gives me a shy smile as she walks down.

Cashmere watches Katniss with a critical eye but I don't let her say anything as I approach Katniss. I can tell she is a little uncomfortable in the dress and she tugs on the top of it to try and cover her modesty.

"You look beautiful," I say in awe.

"I feel like a fraud. I wear jean shorts and boots. Not pretty dresses," Katniss replies.

"You are going to be the star attraction at the awards! You're going to steal hearts!" her escort, Effie, exclaims.

Katniss goes pale. We've talked about how she just wants to go to this thing as undetected as possible.

"I still can't believe they are making us go together," Katniss mutters as she wipes a bit of fluff off her dress.

I take a step towards her and gently place my finger underneath her chin to tip her head up to look at me. I stare deep into her beautiful grey eyes and she doesn't flinch away from me.

"It doesn't matter what they write about us. We know what is real," I say earnestly.

I uttered these words to her when I tried to convince her to go as my friend and I will keep uttering them until she feels comfortable with the whole situation.

Katniss holds my gaze for a long time and nods her head before quickly dropping her eyes and looking away. My heartbeat beats quicker from the intensity of her stare and part of me wants to pull her back to me and kiss all her worries away. But I can't freak her out any more than I already have.

Effie puts the final finishing touches to Katniss' outfit before the car arrives and we step outside. Cashmere doesn't wish us luck or offer any form of goodbye as she watches us, with a cold glare, get into the car.

Katniss is clearly nervous on the car journey over to the Getty Center, the location of the awards show. Her foot jiggles up and down and I can guess Effie would scold her for biting her nails. I reach over to gently take her hand. She jumps a little at my touch but turns to face me.

"You'll be fine. I'll do all the talking," I say reassuringly.

"I'm not very good at lying. I can't convince these people," she replies.

"Then don't lie. Just miss out the bits that aren't true. For example, if they ask you what you think about me tell them that I make great cheese buns. Technically not a lie but they will fill in the blanks themselves," I say.

I get my first genuine smile since we left and Katniss relaxes back into the leather seat. She gives my hand a grateful squeeze as we continue to navigate the LA traffic.

"If I had to fake a date with anyone, I'm glad it's you," she replies.

My heart does a little flip. It's far from a declaration of love but I'll take anything at this moment. Katniss doesn't let go of my hand for the remainder of the journey.

When the car eventually pulls into the Getty Center, Katniss gets nervous again and starts fidgeting in the car. I give her hand another reassuring squeeze and she turns to look at me.

"Remember, we know what's real. We'll do it together," I say.

Katniss nods her head in agreement.

"Together," Katniss repeats and I give her a comforting smile.

The door of the car opens and I step out onto the red carpet with a wave to the crowd. There is a roar in approval and I turn to wave at the fans at the back before ducking down to look in the car and give my hand to Katniss. She still looks terrified but I smile encouragingly at her and it seems to give her enough confidence to come out. She takes my hand and I help her out. She wobbles slightly in her high shoes and sticks close to my side, her hand gripping mine so tightly that I feel the circulation begin to cut off. There is a short pause as the crowd take in who I have brought with me before the screaming starts again and they demand our attention. I'm more used to it so smile widely as I turn to wave again. Katniss is more intimidated by it and smiles shyly as she gives a slightly awkward wave and keeps close to my side.

We spend a couple of moments waving to the crowd before some event organiser rushes up to us and directs us to a spot to take photos. She arranges us on our designated spot, smoothing down my tux collar and directing me to put my arm around Katniss' waist. I pause momentarily before I do to turn to Katniss.

"Is this okay?" I ask her.

"We know what's real, right?" Katniss replies.

I grin at her broadly before pulling her in close to me and she settles into my side. We turn to face the cameras and all I can think about is how perfectly she seems to fit with me.

After what seems like never ending photographers we are freed to go and sign some autographs. At first Katniss follows closely behind me but at some point we lose each other and I strain my head to look over the crowds of people to try and spot her. But there are just too many people and the popular music band that are performing tonight arrive, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.

I don't spot Katniss again until I reach the press section and I spy her happily signing autographs for a section of fans that have been missed by the majority of famous faces tonight. The smile on one young woman's face shows just how much she appreciates Katniss' effort to reach them.

However I can't stand and look at Katniss for long as I'm ushered in front of Caesar Flickerman and he sticks a microphone in front of my face.

"Congratulations, Mr Mellark! You have won the Trailblazer Award for art this year. You have certainly made art cool and attractive for the all the young folk in LA," Caesar says.

"Thank you, Caesar. I hope my paintings inspire other people to paint, even if it is just painting by numbers," I joke.

"That's about the only painting I can handle!" he says with a laugh. "But tell me, your latest work has got quite a natural feel to it. Lots of images of birds and storms. Any particular inspiration for these. Or should I say anyone?"

I've been in the spotlight long enough to know how to play the game. I know this is my cue to start talking about Katniss. I twist my head round to catch another glimpse of her before I turn round to face Caesar with a coy smile. My glance in her direction hasn't gone unnoticed by him.

"A very special person has entered my life recently. She's at home in the natural environment. I hope to have her in my life for a very long time," I reply.

I can tell Caesar is itching for more details as he leans in closer to me.

"Peeta! So secretive. We want more details!" Caesar exclaims, almost bouncing on his feet. "Who is this amazing girl that seems to have taken your heart?"

I give him another coy smile before I turn, ready to leave after my answer.

"Let's just say, she came here with me," I reply before turning to look one last time in Katniss' direction and then leaving Caesar, who is desperate for more information.

The rest of the reporters all ask similar questions to Caesar and I find fifty different ways to talk about Katniss without actually admitting we are dating. Many of the female reporters swoon when I talk about how beautiful Katniss is and how she is my favourite thing to see first thing in the morning. As I speak to all these people I realise that none of what I say about Katniss is untrue. I'm in deeper than I thought.

I finally manage to escape all the photographers and reporters and find Katniss in the lobby of the center. She looks a little overwhelmed by it all and I slip my hand into hers without evening thinking.

"I don't even know if I was making sense by the end. I just rambled on about your paintings and how you're such a nice guy," Katniss sighs as we follow the train of people into the main exhibition room.

"Well, you don't have to do anything for the rest of the night. Just sit, get drunk and cheer me when I accept my award," I say.

"Damn, I was planning to heckle you once you got on stage," Katniss replies with a grin.

I look at her with my eyebrows raised as I dig my fingers a little into her hand.

"I'll get on social media right now and tell everyone Katniss Everdeen is mean and not even that good a singer," I reply teasingly.

Katniss winches when she feels my nails dig into her skin but then laughs as she squeezes my hand gently and we share a grin.

"I might just make you dance for that comment," Katniss replies. "I'm sure the sight of your dancing will lose you some admirers."

I smile and shake my head before I lean in to whisper in her ear. I promised myself that I wouldn't say or do anything that would make her uncomfortable but I find my resolve weakening as I see her so playful.

"If you are up there dancing with me no one will be looking at me. All eyes will be on you and the men will all be jealous of me, dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room," I say.

The hairs on the back of Katniss' neck stand on end and any words are taken from her throat. Slowly Katniss twists her head round and my eyes become locked onto hers. For a brief moment I think she is going to reach up and kiss me.

But then a waiter approaches us, stating he will take us to our table and the moment is gone. Katniss turns away from me and I follow behind as we are shown to our seats.

This awards show is one of the ones where they sit you at round tables and feed you as the night goes on. Each table is named after a famous contemporary artist with the name labels showcasing some of their most famous art. There are huge vats of ice on each table, filled with champagne and white wine and I know I'll have to be careful if I don't want to be slurring in my acceptance speech later.

There are already four other people at our table and I recognise two of them, Portia and Purnia. Portia is a well-established fashion designer that specialises in haute couture dresses while Purnia is a well-respected art critic. I stick my hand to introduce myself to the other two members of the table, who turn out to be Purnia and Portia's husbands, before stepping back and pulling the chair out for Katniss. She smiles at me as she takes her seat and I wait until she is seated before sitting down next to her.

"Great to see you again, Peeta," Portia says. "Your mockingjay picture has been a great inspiration for my next show."

"You should really thank Katniss. She was the inspiration for that painting. She has a mockingjay tattoo on her right shoulder blade," I reply.

I reach out to trace the outline of the bird tattoo that rests just above the line of her dress. Katniss looks at me stunned while Portia raises an eyebrow in surprise.

"Of course. You're Heath Everdeen's daughter. I've seen you wear the mockingjay pin on stage," Portia replies.

"Dad loved mockingjays," Katniss replies. "Peeta gave me the pin and it makes it seem like Dad is with me."

"Oh, how adorable," Purnia exclaims, placing her hand on her heart. "You are lucky to have such a loving and thoughtful boyfriend."

Katniss stiffens at the use of the word boyfriend and she drops her eyes quickly to play with the napkin in front of her. I put my hand on her bare shoulder to try and comfort her but we are all interrupted by Plutarch announcing his arrival to the table.

"Portia, Purnia! Always a delight!" Plutarch exclaims.

He's wearing a very eye-catching purple velvet suit tonight and his hair has been freshly dyed so it is as bright as the sun. The two ladies stand to greet him and they exchange exaggerated air kisses. The two husbands offer polite handshakes before Plutarch takes a seat next to me. He grins broadly and he slaps me on the back while bouncing up and down in his seat.

"And how are my two lovebirds? You are all the internet is talking about!" he exclaims.

Katniss scowls at him and I shift away slightly from him. I drop my arm from Katniss' shoulder and instead place it on her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze to calm her.

"And what exactly are they saying about us?" I ask.

"They all love you! Hashtag Everlark is trending!" Plutarch replies.

"Everlark? What does that even mean?" Katniss asks with a frown.

"Everlark. Everdeen and Mellark. It's your names combined together!" Plutarch says with a flourish. "Can't believe I didn't think of it myself."

Katniss shakes her head and a waiter comes up to offer her a drink. She accepts and swallows a large mouthful of champagne in one go. I smile at her sympathetically before turning to the waiter to accept my own drink and then pick up canapes off a tray that is being brought round. Katniss is in a bad mood and refuses to talk to anyone as Plutarch chatters on nonsense to the rest of the table. I take a bite of the canape and it is some sort of scallop and Italian ham thing flavoured with the sharp taste of lemon. It is delicious and greatly appeals to my ravenous stomach. I gobble it quickly before summoning the waiter again and taking another two off the tray.

"Katniss, you need to try this," I say offering her up the bite size piece.

Food is one of the few things I know will cheer Katniss up. She turns to me and reluctantly takes a bite out of the canape in my hand. Immediately her features soften and she moans as it passes through her lips. I drop my hand once she has eaten it all and she reaches up to discreetly wipe off some excess lemon juice.

"Do you think we could make some at home? I think I could live off those," she states.

I grin, happy that I have managed to distract her from the gossip tonight.

"It looks pretty simple," I say, placing my arm on the back of her chair. "We could try making them tomorrow afternoon."

Katniss looks pleased and nods her head eagerly. I summon the waiter once again and tell him to just leave the tray as Katniss begin gobbling as many as she can. I laugh as I see her eagerness to eat them all but she does allow me to take a few for myself. It is only as Katniss nears the end of eating them all that I notice that all eyes are on us. Purnia has her hand on her heart again and looks at us affectionately.

"You two are just so precious! Seneca doesn't even know where the oven is, let alone offer to cook with me!" she exclaims.

I smile politely back at her but can sense Katniss getting uncomfortable again. She fidgets in her seat and stops eating as all the attention is put on us. I give her knee a gentle squeeze to let her know that I'm still here and will help her and she turns to give me a weak smile.

"How did you two meet anyway? I need a good romance story after twenty years married to Seneca," Purnia asks.

Plutarch looks at us expectedly and I know he wants a good show. I take a moment before putting on my most winning smile and throwing and arm around Katniss' shoulder, drawing her in closer to me.

"Katniss actually walked in on me half naked in the kitchen. She couldn't take her eyes off my well-defined chest," I reply.

Katniss rolls her eyes and shakes her head. At least talking about that incident relaxes her. She still makes fun about it three months later.

"I've never met anyone who has such an aversion to shirts. I don't know why you bother having a closet full of them," she replies.

"No other animal on earth cares enough to cover up, why are humans so sensitive about partial nudity?" I say cheekily.

Katniss shakes her head again. I grin broadly as I turn to look at her and squeeze her closer to me.

"Katniss thought I was a pig-headed idiot after meeting me. I've spent every day since trying to convince her otherwise. I think I'm finally winning her over," I say.

Katniss turns to look at me with a small smile on her face.

"I guess you're not so bad," she replies.

We share a smile and the rest of the world seems to disappear. Dating her would be so easy. I can see it now. The lazy Sunday mornings where we don't get out of bed. The hikes in the hillsides when life in LA gets too much. Standing backstage as I cheer her on loudly. I've never pictured my life with someone so clearly.

Katniss is the one to eventually break away and I swear I hear Purnia sigh at the sight of us. Katniss then begins to gather up her purse as she looks to go somewhere.

"I'm going to try and pee in this dress before the first course arrives. If I'm still not back in twenty minutes send in someone to rescue me," she says.

"I've got the emergency services on stand-by," I reply with a grin.

I then reach out to take her hand and bring it up to gently place a kiss on it before she leaves. Katniss smiles back at me before gathering her purse and standing up to go to the bathroom. I drop her hand as she turns and leaves and watch her as she navigates the cluster of tables. I'm still grinning broadly when I finally turn back to talk to the rest of the table.

Purnia and Portia are both engaged in other discussions now so I am left with just Plutarch staring at me. He has a strange look on his face when I turn back round.

"Oh, Peeta. I've made a big mistake. I shouldn't have made you pretend with Katniss," he says.

"Why?" I ask, confusion evident on my face.

"Because you want it to be real," he replies.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

 _Katniss_

I peek between the curtains to look out at the crowded venue. Plutarch has made sure that no expense has been spared for this chart party. Coloured lights dance about the room, some displaying my name against exposed brick walls. Old photographs of me and Dad have been blown up and hung on the wall, interspersed between some of my dad's old gold and platinum albums. The mockingjay image is everywhere, on cakes and wine glasses, and wild flowers from Dad's native Tennessee fill the room with sweet scents. My heart races as I see just how many people have come to see if I've beaten Cashmere in the race to number one.

I take a step back from the curtain, taking a shaky breath as I reach up to fiddle with the mockingjay pin that lays right above my heart. It's been pinned to the short sleeved white lace top that has been thrown over a figure hugging black dress which comes to mid-thigh. My hair has been left down in natural waves and I have more make-up on my face than I like but my friends are waiting with encouraging smiles as I turn around.

"It sounds like quite a crowd out there. I bet there are more people here than at Cashmere's gig," Johanna says.

"Which just makes me more nervous. I'd much rather be at home alone. That way I don't have to see everyone's disappointment when I fail," I mumble.

"You are not going to fail!" Finnick says, shaking his head and throwing an arm around my shoulder. He gives me a little squeeze. "The charts have had you ahead of Cashmere all week. You're going to join the short list of females to debut at number one!"

"It's too close. There's only been a couple hundred sales between us all week," I reply.

Johanna and Gale shake their heads at me but I have to be cautious. The last two weeks have been a blur of promotion and performing my song so often that sometimes I think I've performed it while partially asleep. But at the centre of all the promotion is the battle that has been presented in the press. The tabloids have asked you to pick a side; team Katniss or team Cashmere? Shops are selling t-shirts with the respective teams on them and all my fans are encouraged to wear replica gold mockingjay pins to show their support.

The interviewers try to get us to trash talk each other, something that I have tried to ignore while Cashmere has relished. They debate our rivalry on day time talk shows, scoring us on everything from looks to romantic relationships. I hate that it has been made into this. At times I feel people care more about the supposed battle than the music.

"I didn't want all this," I sigh heavily. "I just wanted to release a song that made people feel something."

My friends all smile sympathetically and Finnick gives my shoulder another reassuring squeeze.

"And your song does that. It makes people happy and nostalgic. That's the reason people are buying your song, not because you're prettier than Cashmere or becauase you are supposedly dating Peeta. They love the song and it's going to be around a lot longer than that corny duet with Gloss," Finnick says.

I smile at him gratefully but my heart tightens a little at the mention of Peeta. Because even though that room is packed to the rafters the one person I really want isn't here. He's in a club on the other side of town supporting his sister at her own chart party.

Peeta decided to attend Cashmere's party first because he feels like he has been a bad brother recently and not spent much time with her. Part of me is glad as it means we won't be faced with any awkward questions about our relationship status, something the tabloids are determined to pin down, but the other part desperately wants him here.

But I quickly quash any disappointment at Peeta's absence and focus instead on the night ahead. I've been thinking about him way too much lately anyway.

My cell phone vibrates and my heartbeat picks up as I hope it is a message from him. I bounce a little on my feet as I pull up the message but my heart soon drops when I see that the message is from Madge and not Peeta.

 _Ahh! I just heard your song on the radio in LONDON! They are all raving about it over here! So excited for you! Good luck tonight! XXXXX_

I smile at her message but it doesn't quite spread across my face. My mind is already thinking about that blue eyed boy again.

"I take it that wasn't Peeta," Johanna says with a smirk.

I don't miss the amused glances they all share with each other as Johanna says this. It's times like this they really annoy me.

"No. It was Madge," I reply. "She just heard my song in London."

"That's awesome. I'm calling a road trip to the UK!" Finnick exclaims.

I smile at him and shake my head. Meanwhile Gale's interest has been piqued by the mention of Madge's name. After that night in San Francisco, which I heard about in way too much detail, he's been rather smitten. I know they've been messaging each other even though Madge is back in England and it's rather pathetic how excited Gale gets whenever her name crops up.

"That was Madge? Did she say anything else? How is she?" he asks straining his head to get a closer look at my phone.

"Will you stop being stubborn and accept my offer to buy you a plane ticket to London? I think it will all do our sanity some good to stop us hearing you pine for her," I reply.

Gale huffs, stepping away from me and crossing his arms defensively across his chest. Finnick and Johanna both laugh.

"You make me sound like a teenage school girl with a crush," he mumbles.

Johanna shakes her head with a smile as she goes over to him and slings an arm around his shoulder.

"You are a teenage school girl with a crush. I saw you doodling her name on a magazine the other day," she says.

Gale goes bright red and Finnick and I tip our heads back with laughter. Finnick then continues the childish behaviour by chanting " _Gale and Madge sitting in a tree"_. Gale scowls and Finnick only stops singing once Gale has shoved him in the shoulder. We all carry on laughing as Gale mutters something about going to find a drink and sulking away.

"Oh boy. He's too easy to wind up sometimes," Johanna says, wiping a tear from her eye.

I nod my head in agreement before catching sight of Effie hurrying over to me with last minute preparations. She whips out a make-up brush and begins sweeping powder over my face. I sneeze when some of it gets up my nose.

"It's a big, big day!" Effie exclaims. "You're all anyone is talking about. Snow is even here to see you himself!"

My heart tightens with nerves. I have yet to meet the head of Snow Records but his reputation precedes him. He has built careers to only destroy them in a blink of an eye.

I'm so distracted by the thought of Mr Snow that I miss most of what Effie rambles about as she twists strands of my hair and tugs at the bottom of my dress. She finally straightens up again and smiles sweetly as she brushes a strand of hair back.

"Just remember, Katniss. Getting the number one doesn't really matter. Just go out there and enjoy yourself," she says.

I pull her in for a hug. She looks a little shocked and mutters something about creasing her dress but after a moment she returns the embrace. With all the craziness going on around me I'm glad she found the time to tell me it all doesn't matter.

We pull back and Effie affectionately cups the side of my cheek.

"You have a heart of gold, Katniss. Go out there and be proud of who you are," she says.

I smile at her again and she gives my arm a little squeeze before turning quickly and barking orders to the backstage staff. One runner looks terrified when Effie demands the purified water that Plutarch insists makes my voice sound better. The poor young boy looks like he is about to burst into tears as he mumbles he doesn't know what she is talking about and Effie begins ranting about how useless he is. He scurries off, sniffing back tears as Effie follows closely behind shaking her head.

I laugh as I watch her go and then someone comes up and shoves a microphone in my hand. A few nervous butterflies reappear as the countdown to the chart revelation draws nearer. I take a deep breath as I turn to face Johanna and Finnick again. They both have reassuring smiles on their faces. Johanna takes a step towards me and wraps her arms around me.

"We'll still be your friends even if you end up only being a one hit wonder," she says.

I chuckle and squeeze her tight. The hug is longer than ones I'm used to from her but it is much appreciated. I can't imagine doing this without her snarky comments to keep me grounded. Johanna eventually pulls back and Finnick steps in to give me a hug as well. He wishes me good luck and I'm smiling when we all pull back.

"In all the comparisons they made between Cashmere and I, they forgot the most important one. I have way better friends than she does," I say.

Johanna and Finnick grin at me and the Effie comes back to usher them to their spaces in the front row. I thank them as Effie drags them away and then prepare for my first performance of the night. To kick the whole night off I'm performing one song, a cover of one of my dad's most famous songs, and shortly after that the number one song will be announced on the radio.

I hear Plutarch introducing me on stage and chants of my name filter through the curtain. I close my eyes and feed off the energy from the crowd. The last of my nerves begin to disappear and soon the curtains are yanked back, exposing me to the audience. The smile spreads across my face as I saunter onto stage and wave to the audience. I try to forget about everything else this night means and concentrate on enjoying myself, just like Effie said.

* * *

I finish the song and the crowd erupts into applause. I catch sight of my friends at the front, Johanna wolf-whistling and Finnick raising his hands above his head in a heart shape. I laugh when I see them but the image of them doesn't seem complete. I'm so used to Peeta standing right there next to them, his smile bigger than them all and his eyes locked so intently on mine that it makes my heart skip a beat. I've come to rely on his presence way too much and my enjoyment of the night is hampered by his absence.

I still give my friends a smile before I turn to the rest of the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. But I soon feel a foreboding figure come up and stand beside me. Immediately the crowd goes quiet as the head of Snow Records makes his way on stage. I turn cautiously towards him and he gives me a snake like smile.

Mr Snow has been head of Snow Records for the last fifty years. Now a man in his seventies, he has perfectly groomed white hair and full snowy beard. His eyes are just that little bit too close together. He wears an expensive blue velvet suit with a single white rose clasped to the lapel. I cower back slightly as he looms over me.

"A beautiful performance, Miss Everdeen. It felt like we had your father back here with us," Snow says.

My hand reaches up to touch the gold mockingjay pin and Snow smiles down at me again.

"We are delighted to have you with us at Snow Records. Tonight our faith in you should hopefully be rewarded," he adds.

The words coming out of his mouth may be nice but there is a message hidden beneath them. Snow Records will only be happy to have me if I am a success. They will discard me as soon as I am no use to them anymore.

I try to smile back at Snow but I fear it comes across more of a grimace. The crowd politely applaud the president's words but even they are too scared to show any more than polite appreciation. Snow turns to them, announcing that there are ten minutes until the number one reveal and then turns to walk off the stage. I shoot my friends a nervous glance before following him backstage.

Effie gives me a bottle of water and begins fixing my hair once I've stepped of stage but I spy Snow waiting for me just off to my left. Once Effie finishes he takes a step towards me. Instantly I put my guard up

"I meant what I said, Miss Everdeen. You really are quite the talent. Maybe even more talented than your father. I hope this is the start of a wonderful relationship," he says.

"Thank you," I reply. "I didn't expect you to be here. I thought you would be with Cashmere."

Snow laughs and shakes his head. He takes another step closer to me and instinctively I lean back from him.

"Cashmere's star is fading. She'll slowly falling into self-destruction. Her relationship with Gloss was a misstep. He's a bachelor and his fans prefer him that way. That will all come tumbling down along with her music career. Her obvious dislike for you hasn't endeared her to anyone," Snow says.

He then reaches a hand out to move a piece of hair off my shoulder and reveal my gold mockingjay pin. He studies the pin carefully as his thumb traces round the outline.

"You are the company's future. You seem to inspire something in people. Even enough to get people to wear this pin," he says finally looking back at my face.

"I just want to make music people like," I reply looking him straight in the eye.

Snow smiles back at me and nods his head. He drops his hand from my pin and steps back.

"And like you, they do," he says.

He then pauses as he studies me carefully. I try hard to not squirm under his scrutiny. I don't want to seem weak.

"I am disappointed that Mr Mellark isn't here supporting you. I thought I made it clear to Plutarch that I wanted to present you two as a couple. The public seem to be very enamoured with you both. I believe they even call you Everlark," he says.

I drop my eyes to the ground quickly. Even in his absence I still feel Peeta's presence. I had hoped that with the success of the single I wouldn't be forced into a charade with him.

My feelings for Peeta have become complicated. I am aware that he has had a crush on me for ages and I tried to ignore it at first. I just wasn't ready for a relationship. But now I can't deny how much I enjoy his company and in a very different way to how I enjoy my time with Finnick and Gale. I'm slowly beginning to realise that there is something special about Peeta.

But the record label pressurising us into a relationship confuses me. It's something I don't want to do and their constant insistence makes it difficult for me to work out what's real and what's not. Surprisingly Plutarch hasn't pushed the idea since the award show. I feel like he and Peeta have some sort of secret together and it annoys me slightly but at least Plutarch seems to be discouraging this type of publicity.

I fiddle with the hem of the white lace top as I try to come up with a response that will satisfy Snow and not confuse my feelings any further.

"He's attending Cashmere's party. He is her brother," I reply.

"Yes, but he is in love with you," Snow says. My eyes widen in surprise at his choice of words but Snow just smiles before proceeding. "I said I wanted this to be a wonderful relationship. This will only work if you co-operate with me. I tell you to be Peeta Mellark's girlfriend and you do it. And I don't just want pictures of going to dinner together. I want hand holding. I want flirting. I want kissing. You have a contract, Miss Everdeen. I expect you to abide to it. Do I make myself clear?"

I nod my head lamely and he gives me one last insincere smile.

"I'm glad you understand, Miss Everdeen. Good luck with the single tonight," he says.

He tips his head at me before turning around and walking away. My heart hammers in my chest as he does so. I place my hand on my head and shake it to try and rid these confusing thoughts. I wish I had the time to figure out my feelings for Peeta on my own.

Suddenly Effie rushes back up to me and pulls me back on stage. Thoughts of Peeta are momentarily pushed to the side as Effie checks my appearance for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

"They're about to announce the number one single. Get out there and smile even if things don't go your way," she rambles.

I nod my head in agreement and before I know it, I'm pushed out on to the centre stage and Plutarch comes up and wraps an arm around my shoulder.

"And now the moment you've all be waiting for. Quiet please as we wait to hear who reached the number spot!" Plutarch exclaims.

There are few hushed whispers but things slowly go silent and I tune into the sound of the radio being played over the speaker system.

" _We've only got two songs left. Who has won the battle between Cashmere Diamond and Katniss Everdeen? Both very beautiful woman with even more beautiful voices!"_ the radio presenter declares.

I hold my breath as I begin chewing on my bottom lip. I can't look out onto the audience as the beating of my heart gets faster. Plutarch grips onto my shoulder tightly and I close my eyes to calm myself.

" _So who is the unlucky artist at number two? Well, would you believe it…"_ the radio man says before stopping for a long pause _._

Now all I'm thinking about is what Dad would think about this all. Would he be proud of me? Is this the path he wanted me to take? I grow anxious that this was all the wrong thing to do.

"… _at number two, it's only Cashmere Diamond and Gloss Jackson meaning Katniss Everdeen has our new number one record with On the Road!"_ the radio presenter announces.

Time seems to freeze for a moment. All sound disappears from around me and the dust mites stand frozen in the air. A mixture of relief and happiness wash through me as the sound suddenly comes roaring back into my ears and I can hear huge whooping and cheering throughout the whole room.

I'm encased in Plutarch's arms as I cover my mouth in disbelief. I laugh with the absurdness of this moment before I feel Plutarch release me. Soon after Finnick, Johanna and Gale to collide into me as they squeeze me tight.

"You fucking did it! You beat the bitch!" Johanna exclaims as she thumps me on the shoulder.

"Katniss Everdeen! Number one selling artist in the United States! Fuck yeah!" Finnick yells as he picks me up and spins me around.

I laugh as I grip onto his shoulders to steady myself. When Finnick eventually puts me down I feel Gale's hand rest on my shoulder.

"Proud of you, Catnip," he says with a grin.

I shake my head in disbelief but the smile doesn't fall from my face. This moment could only be more perfect if Peeta was here too.

I don't get to celebrate with my friends for long though as wave upon wave of well-wishers come up to congratulate me. One face blends into the next as I am twisted and turned in every direction. The attention only stops long enough to let me get back on stage to perform my single again. It is a surreal experience performing the song now that I know people actually like it enough to buy it. I barely finish the song before the well-wishers descend again and it seems like hours later that I eventually escape their greedy clutches and retreat to the building's roof to get some much needed breathing space.

The cool fall air feels like heaven against my clammy skin. I approach the edge of the roof, bracing my hands against the ledge and inhaling deeply. The LA traffic buzzes beneath me like fireflies on a summer's night. Slowly the ringing in my ears and the echoes of people's congratulations fade and I am left contemplating what this all means.

My mind drifts to my family, not just Dad but Prim and Momma too. A sharp pang of longing hits me as the three people I used to love most in this world are no longer here to celebrate with me. It's hard to imagine just how they would react, especially Prim as she was so young when she was taken. It hurts to think she would be eighteen now. Would she be a singer too and joining me on stage as a two piece? Would she have rebelled against being Heath Everdeen's daughter and sneaked off with some tattooed motorcyclist? Somehow I doubt. She would probably be in the crowd, cheering me on the loudest.

I sigh as I continue to think of them and reach up to play with the mockingjay pin on my chest. I look up the heavens as I hope my family are looking down, watching me with smiles on their faces.

"Are you proud of me?" I whisper up to them.

I stare up at the sky for a long moment, still fingering the mockingjay pin and desperately hoping they can somehow see me now.

I'm brought out of my thoughts by the sound of the roof door scraping open. I whirl round with a scowl, annoyed that someone is interrupting my moment of peace but my face soon twists into a smile when I see who it is.

"So how should I be greeting you now, Katniss Everdeen, the number one selling artist? Should I be bowing at your feet?" Peeta says with a playful grin.

I didn't think my smile could be so wide. He's wearing a good-fitting pair of dark wash jeans with a thin blue sweater that clings to every muscle in his body and a leather jacket that emphasises just how broad he is. His curls are messy, just the way I like them, and the first thought that goes through my mind is that he couldn't be any more attractive.

My feet move before I am even aware they are. Peeta bounds over to me and I wrap my arms around him. He squeezes me tight, as he lifts me slightly off the ground before gently placing me back on my feet. We don't let go of each other and I soak in his sweet smell of cinnamon. I didn't realise how much I craved the feeling of his arms around me.

"You are going to have to start believing me when I tell how amazing you are. The rest of the US have realised what I knew all along," Peeta whispers in my ear.

I pull back to look in his bright blue eyes. I normally hate compliments but he has a way of making me accept them anyway. When I look into his eyes I know he is being one hundred per cent honest.

"It all feels a bit like a dream," I reply.

"A good one, I hope," Peeta says.

"Better now you are here with me," I reply.

Peeta raises his eyebrows in surprise at my comment and part of me is appalled by my bold statement but as soon as the words leave my lips, I know they are true. Peeta doesn't make any cocky comment about how I need him and instead pulls me in for another gentle squeeze.

"I got here as soon as I could. Cash stormed out of her party soon after the announcement anyway," he says.

"I take it she wasn't happy," I say.

"Understatement of the year. I think she may be plotting your demise now but I highly doubt there is anything she could do to hurt you at this point. The love for you is too strong," Peeta replies.

I smile back at him but my mind briefly flits back to the pictures from when I was sixteen. I shake my head of these thoughts. I don't want to think about her tonight.

Peeta and I finally let go of each other and Peeta leads us back to the edge of the roof. His hand slips easily into mine and we stand side by side as we look out onto the illuminated city in front of us.

"What are you doing up here anyway? I'm surprised that Johanna hasn't chained you to the bar and pouring shots down your throat," Peeta asks.

I laugh and my hand goes up to my pin again as I am reminded why I came up here in the first place.

"I just needed some air," I reply.

Peeta's eyes drop down to look at my hand on the pin. He smiles sadly as he brings his eyes back up to look at me.

"You thinking about your dad?" he asks.

He knows me so well. It scares me a little because he has only known me a little over three months. But he has just always been scarily in tune with my emotions.

"I just wish he was here. And Momma and Prim. I would have loved to see their faces when the number one was announced," I admit.

Peeta smiles kindly at me and reaches out to gently touch my elbow. I look up into his blue eyes as he speaks seriously.

"I only ever met your dad once so I can only guess how he would react. But I bet he would have been so proud of you. He'd probably be out on the streets now, handing free copies of your single out and wearing a badge that says I'm the dad of the number one selling artist in the US!" he replies.

"That sounds like Dad," I say with a laugh. "How did you guess that about him?"

"Because the reason Cashmere was jealous of you is because how much Heath loved you. She would always grumble about the things he did for you. I know that wherever your dad is now he'll still be proud of you," Peeta replies.

He words warm my heart and I look at him with a slight mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Thank you. You always find the perfect words to say," I reply.

I smile at him gratefully and we're stuck staring at each other for a long moment again. My heartbeat picks up speed and my hands become clammy. Peeta finally looks back out onto LA and I'm disappointed when his eyes leave mine. I can't imagine not having this man in my life anymore.

I turn back too, to look out at the street, and Snow's words begin to echo in my head again. They scare me now more than ever. Because I don't think if Peeta and I had a relationship it would be fake.

"Snow spoke to me tonight," I begin. Peeta turns to me with a curious eyebrow raised. I take a deep breath before uttering my next words. "He told me that he still wants us to pretend we're in a relationship."

Peeta's face hardens, his eyes going cold while he clenches his fingers into a fist.

"And what did you say?" he asks, his voice tight.

"I didn't say anything but I don't want to be in a fake relationship with you," I reply.

I stare deep into his eyes and try to convey with a look how confused I am about it all. Peeta unclenches his fist and takes a step closer towards me. A hand comes up to gently caress the side of my face.

"Good," he says with more conviction that I have ever seen in him. "Because I told Plutarch I would only be in a relationship with you if it was real."

I gasp a little at the revelation and Peeta brushes a strand of hair off my face before sliding it down and taking a tighter grip of my neck.

"And I mean the real that includes afternoon walks in the park. The incredibly corny Valentine's Day cards with nauseating declarations of love. We'll have couple massages, couples wine tasting, couple colonics…" he carries on, making me laugh. "You're going to have to get used to being my main source of inspiration because I'm never going to tire of painting you. And I totally expect in return a ridiculously soppy love song written all about me. I'm falling for you Katniss. I just need you to be brave enough to join me."

He spoke passionately throughout the whole speech but now he looks a little nervous. He bites on his bottom lip and it almost looks like he is holding his breath.

My heart beats so rapidly, it feels like it might explode. I didn't think I wanted any of these things but now he has said them I don't want anything else. I realise that no matter what Snow is pressurising us to do this would have happened anyway. I was always going to fall for Peeta Mellark.

Never one for words, I reach out to Peeta and curl my hand around his neck. His eyes don't leave mine as I give him one last smile before reaching up and brushing my lips against his. He smiles into it, dropping his hand from around my neck to squeeze me tightly around my waist. My arms wrap around his neck as he opens his mouth to let me in and I sigh in relief at finally feeling his lips on me. My fingers tangle in the curls at the base of his neck as sparks of electricity shoot through my body. Peeta presses my body as close to his as possible, both of us desperate to feel as much of the other as possible. It glorious and I curse myself for denying this for us for so long.

"God damn it! We all owe Gale fifty bucks. I thought you two wouldn't get your shit together until the New Year," Johanna's voice suddenly cuts through the air.

Peeta and I reluctantly pull apart and Peeta chuckles slightly. I blush a little at being caught and bury my head in his shoulder as he keeps me close and turns us to face Johanna.

"So I take it Gale's buying us all drinks tonight then?" Peeta says.

"He better. He's going to be a smug bastard all night anyway," Johanna says with a smirk. "Plutarch wants Katniss back downstairs. You're going to have to wait a little longer to get your dick wet, Mellark."

Johanna's crude language is nothing new to me. But there is a dull ache in my core and I hate Johanna and Plutarch and everyone else downstairs that is preventing me from taking things further. Suddenly I want nothing more than to drag Peeta home to finally see him in his full glorious naked form.

If Peeta is disappointed he doesn't let it show and laughs good naturedly at Johanna's comment. I finally bring my face out of his shoulder to scowl at Johanna but she just smirks back at me. Peeta gives my shoulder a squeeze before he begins walking us back towards the door.

"Don't cool down too much. One hour and I'm taking you out of here and ravishing you like I have been dreaming about since you walked into the house," he whispers in my ear.

A shiver goes from my neck right down to the base of my spine, making every hair stand on end. My clit throbs with anticipation as Peeta flashes me a wicked smile before we descend the steps.

The next hour goes agonisingly slowly. When Gale and Finnick see Peeta and I coming back down with our hands joined and our hips particularly glued together, they both whoop and cheer, slapping us both on the back and muttering something like "about time". I almost think they are more excited about our new relationship status than my number one single.

There are still a lot of people I have to see but Peeta doesn't leave my side for the rest of the night. Now he finally has me he can't stop touching me. His hand on my back. Brushing a strand of hair off my face. Feeding my canapes and trailing his hand up my arm. I crave each and every touch and begin to panic when he moves too far away. A lot of people comment on our closeness and congratulate us on our relationship but it is Snow's eyes I find watching us for most of the night. When I finally turn to catch his eye he has a satisfied smile on his face and part of me wants to march right over there to him and tell him that choosing Peeta was my choice. That he doesn't have the control he thinks he has on my life. But I'm too deliriously happy to make a scene now.

Eventually the party draws to a close and Gale, Johanna, Finnick, Peeta and I all leave the venue to try and find cabs outside. Johanna and Finnick are really drunk and are dancing and singing on the sidewalk. Gale looks like he could die with embarrassment as they drag him into their energetic dance routine while Peeta and I watch on with amused smiles.

Peeta stands behind me with his arms wrapped around my middle and his leather jacket around my shoulders. He leans in to place a kiss on my temple and I hold his arms closer as I let the smile spread across my face.

"Ready to go home, Everdeen?" he asks.

I reach a hand up to cup his cheek as I look back at him and run my hand through the hint of gold stubble on his chin. I know the paparazzi across the street are having a field day as they take pictures of us looking so cosy but I am too drunk off Peeta's touches to care.

"I can't wait to get out of these clothes," I reply.

Peeta's eyes darken before he leans down to kiss me fully on the lips. It is a little awkward at this angle but still just as breath-taking.

"Hey, Lovebirds! You coming out with us?" Johanna calls.

Our lips separate with a little pop and Peeta rests his chin on my shoulder as he turns us to face our friends.

"I think we're going to head home. An early night and all," he replies.

"Suit yourself," Johanna says as a cab pulls up and she gets in.

Finnick and Gale fall in after her and they all begin squabbling over the fact there is not enough room. Once they are finally settled they give directions and the taxi driver sets off.

"Remember to use protection!" Johanna yells as the cab zooms past us.

We both chuckle and another cab pulls up in front of us. Peeta unwraps his arms from around me but still reaches for my hand as he steps forward to open the door.

"After you," he says with a grin and his arm displayed out.

He's too cute at times and I step forward and plant a firm kiss on his lips, savouring his taste for just a moment before pulling back and ducking into the cab. Peeta follows behind with a big dopey grin on his face.

We're strangely innocent on the cab ride back to the house. We sit side by side with Peeta's arm around my shoulder while I gently trail my hand up and down his thigh but hands don't wander to other less innocent places. We catch up properly for the first time since he arrived tonight as I tell him all about the party before he arrived and he tells me about the disaster that was Cashmere's. He soon has me laughing as he retells a story about an out of sync backing dancer.

Once we get back home, Peeta pays the cab driver as I head back to the house. I open the door and head for the kitchen, suddenly desperate to quench my parched throat. I turn the light on in the kitchen as I walk over to the sink, pull a glass off the shelf and turn the faucet on to fill it with water. Once the glass is full I glug down the contents in one go and wipe the residue from around my mouth with the back of my hand. I am about to lean forward to refill the glass when I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and a nose nuzzle against my neck.

"Do you know how many times I've dreamed about taking you in this kitchen? I've wanted it since the first time I saw you," Peeta purrs in my ear.

I immediately sink back into his arms and lean my neck to the side as Peeta begins planting soft kisses on the side.

"You've really wanted me that long?" I breathe as Peeta's hands begin to wander up my ribcage.

"You captivated me from the first moment," he says placing a kiss behind my ear that makes me moan. "I've had to hide a lot of boners from you."

"I felt it San Francisco," I reply as I reach down to grasp Peeta's hand and guide it to my breast. He begins to manipulate it through the fabric and my head lolls to the side as a result. "I wanted to feel you that night."

Peeta groans in my ear and I gasp as he twists my nipple over my clothes. My underwear is already soaking wet and he hasn't even touched me skin to skin.

I spin round in his arms, grabbing his head and kissing him fully on the mouth. He moans as I press my lower body against him and feel the thing I first felt in San Francisco. The kiss is hot and fiery and he is panting when I finally release him. He looks even sexier with his plump lips and ruffled curls.

His grip on my hips is tight and I smile sexily at him before reaching on my toes to give him a softer kiss. This kiss is brief and before he has time to comprehend what is happening I slip out of his grip and begin sauntering out of the kitchen, pulling his leather jacket off my shoulders and deliberately dropping it on the ground. I can feel him watch me hungrily for just a moment as I then strip off my white blouse and leave it lying in the hallway before he snaps to his senses and follows my trail of clothes up to my bedroom.

I am completely naked by the time I enter my room and heart beats rapidly as I wait for him. I've never been this bold with a man and I hope that I have pulled it off.

I stand with my back to the door and it doesn't take long for me to feel those familiar arms around me again. From the heat of his skin I can assume he has shed his clothes too. I sigh in contentment as I rest my head against his shoulder and Peeta sweeps my hair to one side to place a kiss on my shoulder.

"And you've told me before you don't think you're sexy," Peeta says rubbing his nose against my shoulder as a finger reaches up to trace the mockingjay tattoo just below it. "But right now, you are the most beatutiful thing I have ever seen."

I smile as his hand swirls patterns on my belly and he presses his erection into my ass. His hand begins to creep back up my rib cage again and I reach behind me to grab hold of his dick.

"I think you're pretty beautiful too," I reply as I begin to work my hand up and down him.

Peeta is left momentarily speechless and lets out a grunt in approval. I twist my hand up and around his head, gathering the pre-cum and using it for extra lubrication. Peeta involuntarily bucks into me and drops his hands down to my hips, digging his nails in to keep me in place.

I so desperately want to make him feel good and I use his moans as a guide. His grip doesn't lessen on me and then I move my hand up to cup his balls. Peeta lets out a strangled cry and then he removes my hand and scoops me up bridal style in his arms. He marches me over to the bed and dumps me rather unceremoniously on it.

"I'm not the only one that gets to have the fun," he growls as he crawls over me.

I gasp as he engages me in a searing kiss while a hand snakes down to mould my breast in his hand. He twists my nipple until he has got it into a stiff peak and then his lips leave mine as he begins leaving hot kisses all over my skin. I am moaning and writhing in a matter of seconds and my core throbs and begs to be touched. I wriggle my hips impatiently to try and get him to move his hand lower and Peeta pops his head up from where it was lavishing my taut nipple and looks at me with a grin.

"Where would you like for me to touch you next?" he says cheekily.

His thumb moves to my other nipple and tweaks it, sending another flash of heat to my core.

"Here?" he asks as he continues to play with it.

I moan but shake my head. Peeta looks at me mischievously again as he moves his hand down to swirl in my belly button.

"Here?" he asks again.

I shake my head again and he gives me one last smile before trailing his hand down and reaching the intended destination.

"Or here?" he asks as he rubs a quick hard circle over my clit.

"Fuck yes!" I reply as I push my head back against the pillow.

"What a dirty mouth you have," he replies before leaning back down and silencing me with a kiss.

He kisses me as he continues to rub hard and fasts circles over my clit. I snake my hand down until I find his dick again, which is now hot and throbbing in my hand. He swears too as I begin to work him again and it becomes a game of who can finish the other quickest.

Embarrassingly I feel my orgasm build really quickly. When he inserts two fingers inside of me my walls tighten around them and I know it will only be a matter of moments before I cum. As soon as he curls one of his fingers inside of me, he finds that spot, and my orgasm hits me like a tonne of bricks. My hand goes limp from around his dick as I cry out and sag against the mattress.

Peeta fingers ride me through my orgasm and he looks pretty smug as he watches me come back down from my high.

"If you thought that was good, wait until you see what I can so with my mouth," he says with a cocky smirk as he leans back down to give me a soft kiss.

I'm still breathless and lie on my back with an arm across my forehead. Peeta lies down on his side next to me, resting his head on one hand while the other hand continues to trace patterns on my skin.

"I see you take your cockiness into the bedroom," I pant.

"You haven't even seen the best of my abilities," he says with a cheeky grin.

I sigh and shake my head at him and then he pulls me underneath him again, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"And I'm definitely not done with you yet," he adds.

He then kisses me deeply before asking where I keep the condoms. I'm on the pill anyway but I'm glad he wants to be extra safe and gesture with my hand to my nightstand. His body momentarily leaves mine as he reaches over to get one and I am only vaguely aware of him ripping opening the foil packet and sliding the condom on. He positions himself over me again and holds both sides of my head with his hands as he gently brushes a strand of hair off my face.

"This is the best night of my life," he states.

I want to hate him for being so corny but I can't disagree with him. With one fluid movement he bends down to kiss me and slides into me at the same time. We both moan as he sinks into me and then yanks one of my legs over his shoulder. This allows him to go even deeper and I can already feel him pressing against my g-spot. Once we've allowed ourselves a moment to get used to the feel of the other Peeta begins moving. He goes slowly and deeply at first before he picks up speed with shallower, quicker thrusts.

He mixes the pace between these two types as I reach up to try and place as many kisses across his shoulders and collarbone as I can. My lips linger on the dandelion tattoo on the inside of his arm as my fingers slide down to his ass and dig into his ass cheeks to encourage him to go faster. Our bodies become slick with sweat and I reach up to stroke some of his sweaty curls.

My orgasm builds slower this time and I am amazed that Peeta is still holding on. The fire in my belly smoulders as it gradually grows red hot before exploding all around me. I see the relief in Peeta's eyes when he feels me cum around him as I realise he has been desperately trying to hold on. It only takes him a few more thrusts before he cums with a cry and joins me in post coital bliss.

We both have silly grins on our faces once we've caught our breaths. After we have cleaned up, Peeta doesn't waste a moment before he folds me into his arms and holds me close.

"Seriously. Best. Night. Ever," he declares as he snuggles into me from behind.

I turn back to give him a smile but see that his eyes are already closed. Moments later I see the soft rise and fall of his chest telling me that he is sleeping. I smile fondly at him and kiss him on the nose before turning back around and pulling him even closer towards me.

"I'm falling for you too," I whisper before closing my eyes as well and letting sleep pull me under.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for all the feedback I've got from everyone. I really appreciate it.**

 **Things are pretty good for Everlark just now but don't get too comfortable. We're only half way through this story and there is plenty of drama to come.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8

 _Peeta_

I wake up with something small, furry and orange sitting on my face. I screw up my eyes and gently push the cat off my face.

"You have a cat bed for a reason, PK," I grumble as the cat scrambles down my body.

PK doesn't seemed perturbed by me and just slinks away to curl up beside Katniss. My face soon breaks into a smile when I see the sleeping girl beside me. I sigh as I squeeze her close and place a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"I love you," I mumble against her skin.

I know she can't hear me and part of me doesn't want her to. Even getting her to agree to date me is a big step. I don't want to scare her with my feelings. But as I wake this morning I realise just how true these words are and I have to tell her, even if she's unconscious while I say them.

I sigh again as I settle back down beside her. I glance over at her small alarm clock and realise it is still early in the morning. Katniss looks so peaceful that I don't want to wake her. It's been a busy few months for her and as much as I want to wake her with kisses I can't quite bring myself to do it. Reluctantly I pry myself away from her and roll out of bed. Katniss stirs momentarily as I leave the bed but she soon sighs and curls deeper into the sheets. I smile as I observe the image of her sleeping with her dark locks fanned out on the white pillow case and PK curled up by her stomach. I commit the image to my memory as I plan to sketch it out later.

I pad across to my bedroom to grab some running clothes and headphones. I have so much adrenaline running through my body after last night that I need to do something to try and work some of it off. If I'm lucky I'll be back before Katniss even wakes up.

I lovingly write a note, just to let her know where I've gone off to, before leaving it next to her on the pillow. I lean down to place a kiss on her forehead before eventually forcing myself away and out the door.

The fall breeze makes it the perfect temperature for running and the sun in the sky perfectly matches my mood. The reds and golds of the fall leaves seem brighter today and the bird song sounds even sweeter. I slowly make my way down to the house's gates as I take in everything around me. A thousand ideas for paintings begin popping in my head and I realise that only Katniss has ever made me feel so inspired.

I frown slightly though as I approach the gates. Paparazzi huddle together with their long lenses, all eager to catch a glimpse of one of us living inside. It is not entirely unusual to have them hovering about the house and with the winner of the chart battle determined last night it doesn't surprise me that they are eager for photos. The pictures of Katniss and I outside the party venue last night will have just made them even hungrier for images of us.

But I don't want overbearing photographers to spoil my good mood. I plug in my headphones and turn the music up loud as I open the gate and jog out. The pumping beat completely blocks out all the photographers' cries as I run past them and head off down the street. Some attempt to jog along beside me, snapping pictures but they soon give up and I am left to run in peace.

I run to the park and think of nothing other than Katniss as I make my way round. I decide to surprise her when I get back and stop off at a local bakery on my jog home. I hope to pick up some pastries for when she wakes up.

I wipe off beads of sweat on my forehead as I push into the warm bakery. A cheery server greets me and I give her a bright smile as I browse the display cases filled with mouth-watering delights. There are a few people enjoying coffees and croissants at small round tables as old friends catch up and parents take their children out for breakfast.

"Good morning. Welcome to Sae's Bakery. What can I get you?" the young server asks.

My eyes sweep along the case and suddenly spot a basket of cheese buns. My eyes light up when I remember how Katniss devoured them when I made them at home. Her moans while she eats these are very similar to the ones she made last night.

"I'll take half a dozen cheese buns," I reply.

The server nods her head before reaching for a bag and packaging up my order. I stuff my hands in my pockets and begin studying the black and white photos that line the walls. As I am studying the photos I catch the middle of a conversation between two well dressed women. I don't know what about it that grabs my attention but my ears tune into what they are saying.

"Who would want to have famous parents? You are practically being bred to become a drug addict," one woman says.

I frown as I think how unfair this statement is. Katniss had a famous father and she is one of the most down to earth and sensible girls I know. This ignorant woman is pigeonholing every celebrity offspring based on a select few. Her friend seems to agree with her though and nods her head in agreement.

"I know what you mean. These pictures show that even the supposed good role models have a dark past," she agrees.

"Definitely. Which makes it all that more disappointing. She was the last one I would have expected to be caught sniffing a line," the other one says.

My eyebrows furrow even further as I wonder who they are talking about. It sounds like some young starlet has been caught sniffing coke. This is not uncommon in Hollywood but I wonder who has been stupid enough to get caught.

I barely hear the server state the amount for the cheese buns and I hand over the change still straining to listen to the two woman but they seemed to have moved on and are talking about some winner of a reality TV show. Eventually I push their conversation out of my mind and walk out of the shop. I have a girl at home I am desperate to see smile again.

I stop off to buy some flowers, primroses and lilies to remind her of her mother and sister, before heading back to the house. I almost do a double take when I approach the gates and see the amount of photographers has doubled since I've been away. My headphones are still in so I don't hear any of their questions as I push my way through to get to the front gate. They all clamour for my attention but I just look at them with a frown. I just want to get back to Katniss. Eventually I manage to slip through the gate and make my way up to the main house.

PK greets me at the door when I enter and I bend down to scratch his head while carefully balancing the bags in my other hand. He seems a little distracted though and goes to paw at the door after I have moved away. I shake my head at him before heading into the kitchen and hoping that Katniss hasn't risen yet. However when I go through I find Plutarch slumped against the kitchen counter and Cashmere sitting on a bar stool in her robe as she sips a cup of coffee. She has a smug smile on her face which is worrying after yesterday's events. I didn't expect her to be so happy this morning.

"Couldn't even give Katniss one day off after reaching the number one spot," I joke, trying to ease the foreboding feeling tightening in my chest.

Plutarch looks up at me startled and confused.

"Peeta, haven't you seen the pictures?" he says.

I frown, confused as Plutarch gives me a pained filled look before sliding his tablet across the kitchen counter top. I reach across to grab it, my heart beginning to thump in my chest and see a tab for a popular gossip website open on the screen. The headline takes up most of the screen but my eyes are immediately drawn to the grainy picture of the young girl underneath.

It's Katniss. Obviously it was taken a few years ago as her face is more youthful looking and she hasn't quite filled out her curves but there is something troubling about the look in her eyes. She sits at a crowded table, the surface littered with empty beer bottles and red solo cups except for a clear space in the middle. Her eyes are glazed over as she leans forward, holding a rolled bit of paper above a thin strip of white powder.

My mouth goes dry as I realise what I am seeing. Katniss, a young Katniss, snorting coke. I stare at the image in disbelief for a few moments before I begin frantically scrolling through all the other images on the site.

There are dozens of them, all seemed to be taken around the same time. I would guess they were taken shortly after her father's death but they don't paint a pretty picture of her. There are images of her popping pills. Images of her smoking bongs. Images of her draped round boys with their hands up her top. Even an extremely dark image of Katniss on her knees in front of a young man with his pants around his ankles. The images don't match up with the girl I know and I begin to feel sick just looking at them.

But my mind soon turns to Katniss. If these pictures are hard for me to stomach they will only be a hundred times worse for her. She mentioned briefly she reacted badly to her father's death and I can imagine her mortification about these images coming out now.

"Where's Katniss?" I ask, already half way out the room to go and find her.

I can't even look at Cashmere as my mind only focuses on finding Katniss and comforting her. My mind races with thoughts of worry for her as I reach the kitchen door.

"She's gone, Peeta," Plutarch's voice cuts through the air.

I freeze and don't turn round for a long while as I let this fact sink in. Eventually I slowly turn round to face them. Plutarch looks at me sympathetically while Cashmere looks triumphant. I shake my head furiously, not wanting to believe what Plutarch says.

"The record label have terminated her contract. They have very strict clauses in their contracts about maintaining integrity. Drugs are not tolerated. They had no choice," Plutarch explains. "Katniss didn't want to stay in LA as a result."

"She wouldn't just leave. Not without saying goodbye," I say, still refusing to believe it.

Plutarch gives me another sad look before I turn and bound up the stairs, two at a time, to see if he is correct. I burst into her bedroom and my heart immediately sinks at the sight. She clearly left in a hurry. The wardrobe doors are wide open. The hangers are stuck at odd angles and items are scattered across the floor. I stop when I see the mess before despondently walking into the room. The bed is unmade and it seems surreal that only a couple of hours ago I was waking up here with Katniss in my arms. As I survey the room I catch sight of a slip of paper that has fluttered to the ground. I bend down to pick it up and my heart breaks when I see the message I wrote for her earlier this morning:

 _Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,_

 _Hope you slept as well as I did last night. I've just gone out for a run. Don't go anywhere without me. ;)_

 _Peeta_

I curl my hand into a fist, crumpling the bit of paper and cursing her for running away without me.

"She wasn't good enough for you anyway," Cashmere's voice suddenly cuts through.

Her voice reminds me why Katniss had to run in the first place. I whip round to face her.

"Why did you send out those photos?" I demand.

Cashmere stands leaning against the door frame and looks mildly annoyed by my question. She crosses her arms defensively across her chest.

"She was stealing all my limelight. She was beginning to think she was better than me," Cashmere replies.

"She didn't care about being better than you, Cash!" I exclaim. "She just wanted to make songs people liked."

"I am the number one female artist in this country. I am not about to let Heath Everdeen's druggie daughter get in the way of that," she says. "Don't you want me to succeed? Don't you want me to be happy?"

I shake my head in disbelief.

"And what about my happiness? Did you for one moment think about what pushing her away would do to me? I've fallen in love with her. Do you understand that? I'm your brother and you supposedly love me but you have pushed away the one person that has made me happier than ever before," I reply angrily.

I hit a nerve and Cashmere doesn't know how to respond, staying tight lipped and looking to the floor. I hate her for hurting Katniss. She's gone too far this time. I shake my head at her once again before sweeping past her and out of the room.

"You don't get to decide you is good enough for me," I mutter as I brush past her.

I'm not sure if she turns to watch me leave but I rush down the stairs, almost knocking PK over as I swipe my car keys and set off to try and catch up with Katniss.

* * *

I try to call her but get no answer. The photographers continue to crowd around my car while the gates open. After all the photos of us released in the last twenty-four hours they have plenty to write about later. I eventually manage to manoeuvre out of the property without running any of them over before I put my foot down on the gas and race to the airport. Quick phone calls tell me that she hasn't gone to either Johanna or Gale but they tell me they are trying to find her too. I decide to keep going to the airport. If she wants to get out of LA there is a good chance she going to catch a plane.

I grow frustrated as I try to get through the busy LA traffic but finally get to LAX airport and dump my car in the nearest parking spot. I jump out the car and dash into the nearest terminal. The airport is busy with it being the Thanksgiving weekend and I crane my neck to try and catch any glimpse of long dark hair in a braid. I'm not the tallest person though and struggle to see anything through the crowds. Eventually I climb up onto a chair to get a better look but don't catch sight of the pair of grey eyes I have grown to love so much.

I keep scanning the surroundings until a security man comes up to me and gently taps me on the leg.

"You can't stand up there, sir. Health and safety," he says.

I sigh as I jump back down and give the man a small smile.

"Sorry. I was just looking for someone," I say.

The security guard nods his head but then he catches his first proper look at me and his eyes widen in realisation.

"Holy shit! You're Peeta Mellark. My daughter is a huge fan of yours. She has prints of your work all over her walls," he exclaims.

I smile at him kindly but am still straining my neck to try and catch any glimpse of Katniss.

"Can I have a picture and an autograph? My daughter will love me forever if you do," he asks.

I nod my head but am still not paying that much attention to him. He fiddles about with his phone for a few seconds, rambling something about how I have been able to get his daughter interested in art. I smile politely and nod while he takes the picture and I scrawl my name on a bit of paper. Already other people have noticed my presence and I sigh when I see a queue begin to form. I need to find Katniss. However just as I am finishing up with the security guard an idea plants itself in my head. If my arrival has grabbed people's attention then maybe people have seen Katniss too.

"You haven't seen Katniss Everdeen, have you? You know Heath Everdeen's daughter whose song is number one?" I ask the security guard.

"Can't say I have. Saw the pictures of her today though. Sad story that one," he replies shaking his head.

"Don't believe everything that you read," I mutter just as the next fan comes up for a picture.

The security guard soon fades into the background and I continue asking everyone if they have seen Katniss too. Most shake their heads though I get a couple contradictory sightings at opposite ends of the airport. I think they just wanted to say something to please me. I even buy a cheap plane ticket to get through security and rush around the duty free, speaking to waitresses and sales clerks to see if they have seen any sign of Katniss. If she came to the airport she would have wanted food. But if she came here no one seemed to recognise her. I try calling her again. Leaving dozens of messages and even pay some guy to call her name on the speaker system but that proves to be fruitless as well. If she is here, she doesn't want to be found.

I spend four hours in total searching the busy airport and my spirits dissipate as the hours tick by. By the time I eventually give up hope of finding her, I'm hungry, tired and heartbroken. I slump into my car and head back to the house.

On the drive back I realise that I can't stay in that house any longer. Not without Katniss there. Not with the sister that pushed her away. I spend most of the ride back, resenting and blaming Cashmere and my blood slowly begins to boil at the thought of what she did. I am so angry with her when I get back to the house that I don't even throw her a look as I bound up the stairs.

I start flinging things into bags, stuffing things into pockets and prioritising what I need tonight before storming down the stairs. Cashmere ventures through to the hall when she hears me coming down the stairs and stands at the bottom with a slightly panicked look on her face.

"Where are you going?" she asks as I quickly grab my sketch pads from the living room. PK is also downstairs and follows me through, a little lost without Katniss there to look after him.

"I'm going to stay with Finnick until I get my own place. I can't live here with you anymore," I state.

Cashmere shakes her head fiercely as she reaches out to touch my arm. I whip round to look at her with anger and she cowers back at the intensity of my stare.

"Don't let Katniss Everdeen get between us," she replies.

"You don't get it. I love her," I say.

There is a short pause as I give her just a moment to apologise to me. But I don't get it.

I scoff and shake my head before bending down to pick PK up and tuck him under my arm. He squirms a little bit but seems to understand that he is safe with me.

"I've watched you hurt other people but I never thought you would hurt me. And by hurting Katniss you have hurt me. I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive you," I say.

"You don't mean that," she replies.

I take a step closer towards her and she braces herself for my next words.

"There have been times when I haven't particularly liked you in the past, but this is the first time I can say I truly hate you," I say in a low voice.

Cashmere steps back at the strength of my words. I don't give her any more of my time and march out the house without even saying goodbye.

* * *

Finnick greets me with a sympathetic smile when I arrive at his beach house in Malibu. I barely return his greeting as I dump my bags and PK on the floor and make my way into his open plan living area. Gale and Johanna are also here, Johanna scrolling through a tablet and Gale on the phone.

"Has anyone heard from her?" I ask.

Johanna looks up from the tablet and shakes her head.

"Not one word. Gale's even called Madge but if she is heading to England she hasn't told anyone," Johanna replies.

"Damn it!" I reply, banging my hand against one of the walls.

Between the four of us we have covered most of the bases. Johanna and Gale have been calling everyone she knows and Finnick has been calling all the hotels to see if she checked in there. We're running out of places to look.

"Whoa! You don't want to break a hand," Finnick says, coming up behind me to place a calming hand on my shoulder.

My shoulders slump forward at his touch and I scrub my face and tug at my hair before I sink onto a nearby chair.

"I'm sorry. I just can't believe this happened," I say.

They all look at me sympathetically but I can see they are worried about her too. Finnick offers everyone a drink and walks across to the kitchen to pull out a few beers. Gale ends his phone conversation and sits down beside Johanna. She looks at me sadly as she speaks.

"This is what happened the last time. She left without a word and then a month later Gale and I got a message telling us she was England," Johanna says.

"I don't want to have to wait a month. I finally thought she was falling in love with me too," I say, hanging my head forward.

"We were all rooting for you two. I haven't seen Katniss this happy since her dad died. Maybe I have never seen her this happy," Johanna replies.

It's small consolation for my aching heart right now. If she really cared for me she wouldn't have left like she did. If I wasn't feeling so heartbroken I might even be angry with her for it. Finnick comes back with the beers and hands me one. I take it gratefully and take a long drag of it before sagging back against the chair.

"Where would she even go? Does she have other friends in England she might go to?" I ask.

Gale shrugs his shoulders.

"Madge knows all her friends in England. She said she would call if any of them hear from her," he replies.

"What about in Nashville? Does she still have family there?" Finnick asks.

"Just a godfather, Haymitch Abernathy, but I don't think she's seen him since they left," Johanna replies.

"Still worth a call. I can't think where else she would go," I reply.

Finnick nods his head and begins tapping on his phone to see if he can get Haymitch Abernathy's number but I am beginning to lose hope at this point.

"I've been on social media to see if anyone has seen her. Normally there is at least one picture of a fan that tells us her whereabouts but today is blank," Johanna adds.

"That's what scares me. I don't think she wants to be found," I admit.

Gale and Johanna solemnly nod their heads before everyone goes back to their phones or tablets to try and find any clue of her location. I like Johanna's idea of checking social media but I soon shut my phone off in annoyance when I see the messages of hate for Katniss on there.

 _cool_girl24: always knew Katniss Everdeen was a slut. Hopes she dies of an overdose #stopbuyinghermusic_

 _ispeakthetruth: Katniss Everdeen is a druggie whore that deserves to rot in hell #badrolemodel_

 _firebread4871: Katniss Everdeen is ugly and writes crap songs. Today's pictures just prove it #fuckoffKatnissEverdeen_

It amazes me how quickly the public turn against her. They just hide behind words on the internet and don't even offer her a chance to explain. Most of the comments don't even make sense which proves just how ignorant most people on the internet are.

I try calling Katniss again but it goes straight to voicemail just like the other fifty times I have tried to call her. I run my hand through my hair as I leave yet another message asking for her to call me when Gale comes to sit down beside me.

"You still holding it together?" he asks.

"Barely," I reply rubbing my eyes. "I just wish she would let me talk to her."

"But that's, Catnip. She hates talking. Particularly about feelings," he says.

I nod my head in agreement as I run through everything that happened today through my head. Was it only yesterday we were kissing on the roof top at the chart party?

"I didn't realise things got so bad when her dad died," I admit.

With the heart ache of her leaving I haven't even had time to contemplate what the pictures actually showed. Gale bobs his head as he leans forward to rest his elbows on the tops of his thighs.

"There is only so much pain someone can take before they break. Johanna and I didn't know what to do. She had barely drunk alcohol before and then suddenly she was the life and soul of every single party. And this is LA. Drugs were easily available," he says.

I nod my head and part of me wishes I was there to help her back then.

"We think she only did coke that one time. And it was that night that finally pulled her to her senses. She woke up afterwards in a stranger's bed with the white powder under her nails and freaked out. Next we heard from her she was at boarding school in England," Gale adds.

"I don't judge her for what she did as a teenager. I know what type of person she is now and what happened in her past doesn't change the way I feel about her," I reply.

Gale gives me a small sad smile.

"I hope she gives you a chance to tell her that," he says.

* * *

Later that night I sit alone in Finnick's living room with PK curled up at my feet. Everyone else has gone to bed but I can't sleep. Thresh called me from Tennessee to ask how I was doing but I could barely formulate coherent sentences. My mind is too full of Katniss. Thresh ended the call pretty quickly and told me to call him if I needed someone to talk to.

The TV is on and I'm watching one of those trashy celebrity gossip programmes. I normally can't stand them because they are such an invasion of privacy but I'm hoping that maybe there is some sign of Katniss on them.

She's headline news tonight and they repeat the story almost on loop as they discuss her rise to fame, culminating in last night's chart success, and today's almighty fall. The two shiny presenters discuss in depth each photograph released to the press and what each tells us about Katniss' character.

"I have to say, in all of this I feel for Peeta Mellark. I doubt he knew about this and now he is left looking like a fool," the female presenter states.

Pictures of Katniss and I outside the party appear on screen. I'm stuck looking at images of us looking adoringly at each other while my heart clenches in longing.

"Couldn't agree more with you, Octavia," the male presenter replies. "Peeta Mellark is one of the US's most eligible bachelors. He doesn't need this tainting his reputation. Dating a drug addict is not good for his career."

"You're right, Flavius. And although there has been no statement from Peeta Mellark, he and Katniss Everdeen where spotted leaving separately from the Hollywood Hills mansion they share with his sister, Cashmere Diamond. Sources close to Mr Mellark say he is humiliated by the pictures and told Katniss to pack her bags and leave. It looks like that little Hollywood romance is over," Octavia states.

I angrily shut off the TV before they sprout any more lies about Katniss and me. I've been in LA long enough to know that 90% of the stories released are absolute crap. These close sources are always just someone made up to try and add to the word count. But this is the first time their made up bullshit hurts me. I don't want anyone thinking badly of Katniss, the woman I love, and I hate for people to think I am the one that pushed her away.

I sigh as I slump back against the chair and try to scrub the tiredness out of my eyes. Suddenly my cell phone starts ringing and I see Katniss' name flash up on the screen. I lurch forward to answer it, disturbing PK as I go to retrieve it and he makes a noise as he swipes a paw at me. But I don't even care as I press the phone eagerly to me ear.

"Katniss. Where are you?" I ask breathlessly.

But I am met by silence at the other end of the line. I remove the phone from my ear to look down at it and realise that in my haste I didn't notice it was just a message notification and not a phone call. My heart sinks a little but I take a deep breath as I open the text.

My heart thumps in my chest as I wait a couple of seconds for the message to appear and it soon plummets when I read the words. It's only three small words nut they break my heart.

 _Let me go_

* * *

 **A/N: I know there are going to be a few people that hate Katniss right now and you are probably right to but I feel this is keeping with her character. We'll find out exactly where she is and why in the next chapter.**

 **Thanks for everyone's continued support and I hope you stick with it while things get tough for Everlark in the next few chapters.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm so glad so many people understood Katniss' actions in the last chapter. She's been dealt a rough hand! A bunch of new characters are introduced in this chapter so I hope you don't find it confusing!**

* * *

Chapter 9

 _Katniss_

The bar is busy and the line of customers doesn't shprten as the night goes on. With Christmas just two weeks away I barely have to time to breathe as I turn to the next patron while I am handing the coins of change over to the last one. I tuck my recently cropped hair behind my ear as my only thoughts are of beer and cheap cocktails.

I worked in pubs in England but I got a reality check when I found this job three weeks ago. I lived in the LA bubble too long and forget what it is like to serve instead of be served. I guess I was silly to try and play popstar.

My phones buzzes from within my jeans pocket and I internally groan when I think about who it could be. Since I arrived in my mother's hometown, a couple of hours out from Nashville, Tennessee, I have received a rotation of text messages and voice mails from Gale, Johanna, Madge and Peeta. They are all along the same line; that they miss me and want me to come back but I just want them to forget about me. They don't need me making trouble in their lives any longer.

I knew those photos existed but hoped that they would never see the light of day again. It is the part of my life that I am most ashamed of. After Dad died I just didn't know what the point in my life was anymore. I tried everything to forget until I realised how many dangerous situations I was putting myself in. I haven't touched drugs since but I know how damaging pictures like that are to young careers.

I made the mistake of Googling my name after the pictures came out. I was faced with hundreds of hate filled messages and comments and for the first time in a long time I wanted to smoke a joint to make me forget. But I'm determined not to become what the online trolls believe me to be.

The day the pictures came out I found Cashmere, all smug and triumphant, waiting for me in the kitchen. I didn't need her to tell me she was the one that sold the pictures. Beating her to the number one spot sealed my fate. She didn't waste any time removing me from the equation.

I'm ashamed to say it was very easy for her to drive me out of town. The pictures were detrimental enough and then she told me how Peeta's art dealers had called and said they would stop working with him if he was connected to me. I can't drag him down with me. He's better off without me and the sooner he and my friends realise that the better.

I ignore my phone and begin making plans to buy a new one when the band for the night jumps up on stage. The bar regularly plays live music but most of the bands are mediocre with not a hope in hell of ever making a success in music. Sometimes I seriously consider purchasing ear plugs to improve the sound of the very worst offenders. But something about tonight's band catches my attention.

It's probably the sheer number of them. Seven in total. Four girls and three guys. They are an odd looking bunch. The female bass player has a completely bald head with a vine tattoo curling up the side of her neck while the female drummer seems to be dressed like a cat. The guy on keyboards has spindly glasses and looks like he is about to fall asleep. They are far from conventional.

As the rest of the band take their places the bald bass player makes her way to the front of the stage and curls her hand around the microphone.

"Good evening! Hope y'all in for a good time tonight. We're Revolution and we're here to tell y'all to stick it to the haters and love who you are. Our first song is called _The Quell_. Don't ever let anyone hold you down," she declares.

Some jock like guys in their twenties, who were probably kings in high school but now don't amount to anything much, snicker and mutter loudly about the size of the red-headed female member's nose. The girl's eyes dart to floor quickly, making it clear she overheard them and it makes me angry that these men so easily judge others on appearance.

After that I feel defensive about this band I never heard of and eagerly strain my ears to listen as the bass player plays the first few chords of the song.

Half way through the first song even the idiot jocks stop smirking and begin clapping and cheering on the band. Their sound is not quite like anything I have heard before. It's country but with a soulful twist. They have a banjo and fiddle player that shouldn't fit in with the vibe but totally work and compliments their sound. Their songs are filled with inspiring messages, celebrating quirks and standing up to people that threaten to undermine you. They have the whole place hooked in thirty seconds and I find myself bobbing and humming along with everyone else.

Their music captures people so much that everyone at the bar turns to listen to them which leaves me a rare moment of quiet.

"These guys are good," I mutter to no one in particular.

I didn't expect anyone to hear me but a middle aged man with greying, muddy blond hair and scruffy beard overhears me and turns his attention to me. He finishes the contents of the drink in front of him and eyes me carefully before he speaks.

"Best in Tennessee. I don't attach myself to talentless machines," he replies.

"You're their manager?" I say raising my eyebrow. This man barely looks like he can organise his own clothes to put on in the morning let alone manage a band.

The man nods his head before sliding his glass in front of me, demanding a refill. I pour the drink for him as the band changes song to something more sombre. It doesn't take long for chills to roll up my spine over the haunting lyrics.

"These guys should at least be in Nashville. They're good enough to get signed and shouldn't be playing in shitty bars like this," I say.

The man tilts his head to the side and smirks at me. He takes a long drag of his drink as he fixes his eyes on me.

"They're never going to get signed, sweetheart," he says.

The use of the term of endearment triggers a memory. A memory of someone calling me that while I was a little girl in Nashville but it's fleeting and I don't remember the face that goes with the voice.

"Record companies want the whole package. And they are never going to sign a group that looks like that. They're just not pretty enough," he adds.

"It shouldn't be like that. You should be signed on your talent not your looks," I reply.

"Well, we can't all be as blessed in both departments as you, Katniss Everdeen," the man says with a smirk.

I freeze at the mention of my name. I haven't told anyone it since I arrived here three weeks ago. I've shortened my name to Kat and used my mother's maiden name. I chopped my hair off to try and stay anonymous. I want a fresh start. Away from the name Everdeen and all the mistakes I made in LA. So far no one has recognised me since I arrived here. Even with my number one single I wasn't that well known here.

"How do you know my name?" I ask warily.

If this guy is press or a stalker, I'm ready to take him out. But he just smiles and shakes his head.

"You really don't remember me? Your own godfather?" he says. "I suppose it's not surprising. I haven't seen you since you were nine. Your daddy wanted to forget everything in Nashville after your mother and sister died. I see that's a habit you've picked up from him."

It all clicks into place at once. My father's best friend and former manager. He was the person that convinced my dad to get help after Prim and Momma died. But Dad cut him out after we went to LA. He didn't want any reminders of the happy life he once had in Nashville.

"Haymitch…"I reply.

The man grins and sits up straighter as he finishes his latest drink.

"Glad I am not completely forgotten. You did call me your favouritest person in the world when I bought you a bow and arrow," he says.

I shake my head in disbelief that this part of my past is catching up with me here. It seems too much of a coincidence.

"Are you following me?" I ask cautiously.

"Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I've always kept an eye out for you, particularly after Heath died, but I didn't come to seek you out. I moved to this town a couple years back when the work dried up in Nashville. I've been managing this lot for the last year. If anything, you're the one that's followed me," he replies.

I scowl at him as I snatch the empty glass out his hand and refuse to refill it. Why does my past keep catching up with me?

"I don't need you looking out for me," I snap.

"I didn't say you did. But I know it would make your daddy happy to know there is someone keeping an eye on you. I'm just saying, you don't need to be alone," he says.

He hits a nerve. I've separated myself from all my friends because I don't want to give them any trouble. But it is lonely and I wish I was brave enough to face them.

I turn away from Haymitch and busy myself drying glasses. I feel his eyes on me and eventually he coughs and pushes a business card in my direction.

"Come backstage after and meet the band. They could do with meeting fans like you and I think you could do with some friends right now," he says.

He gets up to leave soon after, leaving a pile of coins on the counter. Once I'm sure he's left, I turn round and finger the business card in my hands.

* * *

I linger in the doorway, twirling Haymitch's business card in my hand and chewing on my bottom lip. I can hear rapturous laughter coming from inside the room while I debate whether to go in or not. I want a fresh start and I don't know if connecting myself to my godfather is the best way to do that.

However in the end the decision is made for me. The door is yanked opened and I am suddenly facing a smug looking Haymitch.

"Glad you decided to join us," he says before stepping back and giving me space to enter the room. "Hey! Rebels! I've got a fan I want y'all to meet!"

The laughter immediately stops as everyone turns to watch me shuffle into the room. Seven sets of eyes stare at me curiously as I give them an awkward wave and smile.

"Hi. I'm Kat Dempsey," I say.

It's still strange using my mother's maiden name. But Katniss Everdeen's life was a mess. Maybe things will be better as Kat Dempsey.

"I work at the bar and loved your set tonight. It's the best thing I've heard all year," I add.

The bald girl smiles at me broadly and throws her arm around the red-headed lead singer with a fox like nose. The red head smiles softly and instinctively leans into the other woman's touch.

"Glad you enjoyed it. We're just trying to educate the masses about what real music sounds like," the bald girl says.

I nod my head in agreement and wring my hands nervously in front of me. I don't really know what I expected to achieve by coming in here. However the bald girl steps forward, her arm still around the red head, and stretches out her hand for me to shake.

"I'm Cressida, by the way. Bass player. And this little hottie here is Roxy. She's the lead singer," Cressida says.

Roxy blushes at the compliment and buries her head into Cressida's shoulder, who just laughs and places a kiss on top of her red hair. She then tilts her head to the side to take a proper look at me.

"You're not like our normal fans. We don't normally get ones as pretty as you," Cressida adds.

Haymitch steps forwards and throws an arm around my shoulder, squeezing me tight.

"Kat's daddy taught her well. He was an old buddy of mine in Nashville. He never bothered singing her nursery rhymes," Haymitch says.

Cressida nods her head, impressed, and then suddenly the banjo player, an older woman with wiry brown hair, bounds over to me and throws her arms around me in a tight hug.

"We're so glad to have a new fan! Do you want a badge? I can get you one. I wear mine all the time!" the woman declares, tapping the black and white badge with the band's name pinned to her chest. Her hand then reaches up to touch the gold pin on my chest. "But you've got such a pretty badge already. What bird is that?"

"A mockingjay," I mumble as my hand reaches up to trace the bird. It seems I can't quite let all of Katniss Everdeen go.

Haymitch raises his eyebrows in surprise when he sees the badge. He is the only person in the room that knows the significance of it. He doesn't say anything about it though and looks up to speak to me.

"Kat. Meet Wiress. Our banjo player. People have been trying to label her her whole life but she is the happiest person you will ever meet," he explains.

I nod my head and smile kindly at Wiress. She beams at me with delight and pulls out a badge and pins it next to my mockingjay pin. Haymitch then looks back out to the rest of the room and begins further introductions.

"The crazy cat lady over there is Tigris. Drums. And don't try to compliment her. She hates it," Haymitch says.

I nod my head and smile at the woman wearing cat ears and make-up that gives her a very feline look. She gives me a small smile but quickly darts her eyes to the ground, as if embarrassed that someone is looking at her.

Haymitch then introduces the three men of the group. There are two brothers, Castor and Pollux, who are on guitar and fiddle respectively. Castor has brown spikey hair and stubble gracing his chin and glares at me as we introduced. His brother, Pollux, is a lot more welcoming and gives me a wide smile as I shake his hand.

"Your fiddle playing is great. It really adds a whole new dimension to the songs," I say.

Pollux smiles at me warmly and nods his head.

"Don't expect much chit chat from him. He bit his tongue off when he was ten," Cressida replies.

I try to not let the surprise show on my face. This group of people are even more interesting than I thought.

"You must be awesome at charades then," I say with a smile.

Pollux's grin widens and he turns to sign something to his brother. Castor doesn't seem to be as impressed though and scowls at me as he continues to study me.

The final member of the band, a dark skinned man with glasses, is curled up and asleep on the couch.

"That's Beetee," Haymitch informs me. "We let him sleep. Suffers from insomnia. Though sometimes his best ideas come after not sleeping for two days."

I nod my head in understanding and wonder how exactly this bunch of people all found each other.

"I'd love to hear you again. When's your next gig? I'm definitely going to recommend you to customers in the bar," I state.

"We don't need your help. Don't make it sound like you're doing us a favour," Castor says.

"Stop being a grump, Castor. We can't say no to free promotion," Cressida replies.

Castor scowls at her but her look is enough to stop him say anything more. Satisfied Cressida turns back to me with a smile.

"It's next Thursday. At the Hob. But it will be our last gig for a while," she says. "Roxy is getting her tonsils out and will be on voice rest for a few weeks."

"Let's hope we still have fans left after it all," Castor grumbles.

"I'll still be handing out my badges! We'll have even more fans than before!" Wiress declares.

Castor glares at her but Wiress doesn't seem to notice. She begins babbling on about all her ideas to promote the band. Roxy is quiet throughout the whole discussion and it is clear that she feels uncomfortable about it all.

"I'm really sorry. I'm letting you all down," she mumbles. "We've had to cancel enough gigs because of my illnesses."

Cressida squeezes her tightly and shakes her head fiercely.

"Don't you don't dare blame yourself. I'm just grateful that you're going to get better," Cressida replies, nuzzling he nose in Roxy's hair and placing a kiss on her temple.

"The Rolling Stones had an almost five year break and then they came back strongly. A few weeks is nothing," I say trying to reassure the girl.

"But we don't have the fan base of the Rolling Stones," Castor says.

An argument between Cressida and Castor soon rises as Cressida asks him to stop being so negative. Wiress doesn't like the arguing and curls up into a ball on the floor. She place her hands over her ears and begins rocking back and forth on the spot. I bend down to place a comforting hand on her shoulder but my presence seems to have little effect.

Haymitch watches it all silently with a slightly pensive look on his face. He stares at me for a long moment as he contemplates something.

"We should let Kat in the band. I've heard her sing. She's got the same tone as Roxy and once Roxy is back they'll complement each other well. This way we won't lose momentum," he says.

My eyes shoot up to look at him and I shake my head furiously.

"No way!" Castor declares. "We don't need any new members. And just look at her. She doesn't fit in with our message. She's too normal," Castor says.

"I don't sing in public anymore, Haymitch," I say, agreeing with Castor.

"Why? Because things got a bit hard? You need to man up. Your daddy wouldn't like to see you give up," Haymitch says.

"Don't dare try to use my father against me," I reply in a low growl.

Haymitch shakes his head at me.

"I'm going to be honest with you. We need you. Our fan base is small and any sort of break could lose it all. I know how you sing and think you are the perfect fit for the band," he says.

Castor is still looking angrily at us both and Haymitch turns to confront him.

"And as for her not fitting in with our message, excluding her on her looks is directly opposing that message. You want the world to know it's okay to be different and that appearance doesn't matter. That means accepting everyone. Even the people who are conventionally appealing," Haymitch says to him.

Castor huffs and turns away. Cressida then turns towards me and studies me carefully.

"Are you really as good as Haymitch says?" she asks.

"You don't need me in your band," I reply.

"Let us be the judge of that. Come rehearse with us tomorrow. We can check you out and you never know, you might enjoy it. You'll never replace Roxy but I'm up for trying something new," Cressida says.

I open my mouth to argue again but get shut down by one look from Haymitch. Wiress stops her rocking and springs up to throw her arms around me again.

"It'll be so much fun!" she declares. "We eat Skittles while we rehearse!"

I force a smile and let Wiress jabber on about the rehearsal tomorrow. I catch Haymitch's eye over her shoulder and he gives me a smug smile. Somehow I'm leaving this room with an audition for the band tomorrow.

* * *

The next day I stand with the sheet music in front of me and a microphone in my hand. I'm jittery as the rest of the band set up behind me. Cressida and Tigris are laughing about some incident in a shopping mall while Wiress and Pollux seem to be playing some game in sign language. Castor keeps throwing me glares as he helps a yawning Beetee set up but there is an easiness about the way they all interact. Haymitch filled me in on some of their backstory and it sounds like they suffered a lot of adversity before they found each other. It was Cressida who eventually started the band. She and Castor went to school together and soon recruited his brother to join too. The rest they all found in various hidden bars and clubs.

Roxy adjusts her microphone stand beside me and gives me an encouraging smile.

"You done much professional singing before?" she asks.

A small smile crosses my face.

"Some," I reply. "I've never sung in a band though. My dad and I used to duet when I was younger but that was the closest I ever got."

"Being in a band is so much fun. Revolution are like my family," Roxy replies.

"I'm not wanting to replace you," I say to her.

She smiles at me again and tucks her hair behind her ear as she straightens up.

"Cressida would never let that happen. But it might be nice to have someone to sing with once I get back," she replies.

She turns her head to look in Cressida's direction and Cressida catches her eye and gives her a cheeky wink. Roxy smiles affectionately back at her and there is a tug in my heart. It reminds me of the person who used to look at me like that.

But I shake my head to rid all thoughts of blond hair and blue eyes.

Everyone finishes setting up soon after and Haymitch stands at the front barking out orders.

"We'll ease Kat in. Roxy, you take the lead for now and Kat join in when you can. Tigris, make sure you don't come in too early. We don't want you dragging for the rest of the song," he says.

Everyone nods their heads and a few pluck strings on their instruments to tune them. Eventually everyone goes silent and Cressida counts us in.

Wiress starts off on the banjo first, the keyboards and bass following soon after and I take a deep breath as I begin tapping my foot in time with the song. Roxy flashes me an encouraging smile before she opens her mouth to sing. I listen for a moment, noting the timing and inflections in her voice. Once I feel confident enough I bring the microphone up to my lips and sing along with her.

As soon as the first note leaves my lips, the familiar feeling of warmth and joy spread from my heart. The endorphins start flowing through my body and my head empties of every other thought I have. It doesn't take me long to get lost in the music and remember why I love singing in the first place. A smile soon spreads across my face and I turn to grin at Roxy. She smiles at me too and we manage to perfectly blend our two voices together.

I let myself relax and enjoy the rest of the song. I even begin to sway my hips in time with the music. The rest of the band pick up on the positive vibe and they sound even better than they did last night. I'm giddy when the song eventually ends and a quiet falls around the room.

No one says anything for a long moment and I begin to panic that I misread everyone. Maybe they don't like me as much as I thought. They all look around each other and I chew on my lip as I wait for their verdict. And then suddenly my attention is brought back to Haymitch as he begins a slow round of applause.

"And that right there, could be a hit record," he says with a grin.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise and see the smiles on the rest of the band's faces. Wiress jumps over to me and takes hold of my hands.

"Your voice is even prettier than you! We've never sounded that good!" she exclaims.

"She was okay, I suppose," Castor grumbles.

I smile at Wiress while Cressida and Beetee begin a discussion about how best to incorporate me into their songs. Roxy smiles broadly at me and bends down to show me the rest of the song sheets. She goes through them quickly, giving me tips, as she declares her excitement at getting to work with me.

It gets a little overwhelming as the band's excitement becomes palpable. I don't want to come across as some sort of saviour. This is their band and I just want to help in any way I can.

Cressida eventually comes over to me and sticks her hand out in front of me.

"Welcome to the band," she states with a smile.

I smile back at her and take her hand eagerly. With my inclusion now complete we all turn back to finish the rehearsal.

The rest of the rehearsal goes well and I don't think I have ever laughed so much. They are all a little crazy but I love it. It's very collaborative and everyone's ideas are listened to and given equal thought. Cressida emerges as the leader of the group but nothing is decided without a unanimous vote. I am almost disappointed when Cressida suggests we stop to grab some food.

"Roxy and I will go and pick up some pizzas from across the road. Anyone want anything specific?" Cressida asks.

"Don't forget the Skittles!" Wiress pipes up.

Everyone laughs as Cressida turns to Wiress with a smile.

"It's top of the list," she replies.

Wiress nods her head excitedly and then declares she's going for a walk to stretch her legs. Tigris agrees to go with her and Wiress practically skips out the room. Castor and Pollux go off somewhere to video message their parents and Beetee curls up and sleeps in the corner.

"You wanna come with us, Kat? Save you from being on your own?" Cressida asks.

I shake my head.

"I think I'm going to stay and get my head around some of these songs," I reply.

"Suit yourself," she says.

She and Roxy begin to put on their coats but it takes much longer than it should. Cressida playfully tickles and pinches Roxy as she puts her coat on and Roxy laughs as she gently swots her girlfriend's hand away. This doesn't deter Cressida though and she wraps her arms around Roxy from behind. Roxy smiles as she sinks into the embrace and Cressida nuzzles her nose into Roxy's neck. She begins planting soft kisses on her neck before Roxy turns round to catch a kiss on the lips.

A sense of longing appears in my chest at the sight of them. Once they are both zipped up, they leave laughing, hands swinging together and heads bent towards each other. Memories I have tried to forget suddenly come rushing to the fore.

I've tried my hardest not to think about Peeta. Thinking about him makes me miss him. And when I miss him, I want to call him.

I'm pretty successful most of the time. The busy bar keeps me distracted but there are times in the day it just suddenly hits me. I suddenly remember his smile or the heat on my skin when he touched me. It takes all my breath away and I have to grip onto something to steady myself. I didn't think I would miss him this much.

I can't concentrate on the lyrics in front of me as Peeta floods my mind. I abandon them and grab the only thing that helps me sort out my thoughts. I pick up Castor's guitar and flick open my song book, scribbling down the first thing that comes into my head.

I must be left alone for half an hour as I soon fill the page with music and lyrics. I don't seem to disturb Beetee sleeping in the corner and constantly score things out and rewrite them before I begin to feel happy with what is on the page.

I strum the first few notes of the song on the guitar and test the words for the first time.

 _Falling slowly,_

 _Blue eyes, sunsets…_

I stop playing to contemplate the next line but when I look up I find Cressida staring down at me. She smiles at me before taking a seat beside me and offering me a pizza box. I take the box gratefully, putting the guitar down and taking a slice out. Cressida spots my notebook lying open on the floor and reaches out to turn the notebook so she can catch a look at what I have written.

"Who is he?" she asks.

"Who do you mean?" I reply, feigning ignorance.

"The man your song is about," she states with a knowing smile.

"Who said it was about anyone?" I say.

"They are always about someone. Roxy has banned me writing any more about her for the time being," she replies.

I finish chewing my bite of pizza and look down at the lyrics in front of me. I came here to get a fresh start. I don't want to dredge up the past with potential new friends. Plus it hurts even thinking about him. Talking isn't going to make it any better.

"It doesn't matter," I say. "He's better off without me."

Cressida looks at my sympathetically before turning back to look at what I've written.

"Whoever he was, he must have been pretty special. Anyone who sings like that must have loved him a lot," she says.

I don't reply. I never admitted to myself that I loved Peeta. My heart can't handle admitting it now.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

 _Peeta_

"You look shit, man," Thresh says as soon as he opens the door.

I roll my eyes as my childhood friend steps aside to let me into his modest one story house. I dump my bags in the hallway before turning to face him.

"You haven't seen me in eight months and that is how you greet me? Gee, I wonder why I didn't fly down sooner?" I reply.

Thresh gives me a cheeky grin and slaps me on the back as he shows me through to the living room.

"Someone has to make sure you don't get too big headed now you are some fancy famous artist in LA," Thresh says.

"I don't know how long that's going to last. I've had zero inspiration in the last two months," I reply.

"And that's why you are in Tennessee now. A couple of weeks with your best friend is going to rejuvenate you," Thresh says enthusiastically.

I smile and shake my head as we enter the living room. Thresh was my best friend growing up and we caused a lot of mischief during our school years. For a man as big and dark as Thresh, he is surprisingly stealthy and could always sneak us into the most unusual places.

But for the last two years he's left me to enjoy domestic bliss with his college girlfriend, and now wife, Rue. As soon as Rue got a job offer to work for a charity helping underprivileged kids, my best friend packed up his bags and moved with her to Tennessee. I've envied their easy relationship for years.

Rue sits curled up on a worn arm chair when we enter the living room but she gets off the chair with a warm smile as soon as she sees me. While Thresh is big and bulky, Rue is slim and her slender arms wrap around me in a warm embrace.

"How you doing, Rue? When are you and Thresh giving me my first godchild?" I ask as Rue pulls away.

Rue shakes her head and I turn to Thresh with a cheeky grin.

"Don't look at me," he says holding up his hands. "I want kids but it's the wife that insists we wait."

Rue turns to give her husband a pointed look.

"And it's _the wife_ that decides if you are getting any at all so I'd quit your whining if I were you," Rue replies.

Thresh grins back and I catch just the hint of a smile from Rue, telling me that while their opinions differ at the moment it has caused no real tension in their relationship. Having spoken with Thresh on the subject I know he will wait patiently for Rue to decide when they are ready.

"Don't try to change the subject though. My husband may have been a bit rude but he's right. You look like crap," Rue adds as we all take a seat.

Thresh and Rue sit closely together on the couch, Rue placing a gentle hand on Thresh's leg, while he throws his arm along the back. There is just that small flutter of jealousy as I note how content they look.

I sigh heavily as I slump back against the chair. I run a tired hand through my hair before answering.

"I've not been sleeping well lately. Moving into my own place hasn't helped and I've got too much on my mind," I admit.

"Katniss," Thresh states in response.

We've known each long enough to not pussy foot around one another. Thresh is very good at getting straight to the point. I nod my head in reply.

"No one has heard from her since Thanksgiving weekend. I just want to know if she is okay," I say.

Thresh and Rue look at me sympathetically.

"I think you've got to come to terms with the fact she doesn't want to be found," Rue replies.

"I can't just switch my feelings off. I fell in love with her. I wanted to try and build something with her like you guys have," I say.

"Most people aren't as lucky as us. The majority of people experience a lot of heartache before they find that happiness," Thresh says.

I sigh again as I sink further back into the chair. The last two months have been emotionally exhausting. Even though Katniss asked me to let her go I find it impossible. I felt a connection to her from the moment I met her and now she is gone it feels like part of me is missing. PK and I both often wander around my new apartment looking for something that isn't there. Even when I think I'm doing okay I'll see or hear something that reminds me of her and my heart breaks all over again.

And there is also part of me that is angry with her. For leaving me. For not giving me a chance to support her. She hasn't even let us know if she's okay.

Normally I find solace in painting but even that has been a dead end recently. Whenever I sit in front of the easel my mind goes blank and the brush strokes never come. I've become scared of a blank canvas and that is the kiss of death for an artist.

"I thought I was getting too old to get my heart broken," I grumble.

Rue and Thresh smirk and shake their heads.

"Peeta, you are twenty-five. You're probably going to get your heart broken a few more times," Rue says.

"Thanks for the pep talk," I reply.

They both laugh and Thresh reaches across to give me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"I'll take you out to get drunk. I hear it is the number one cure for heartbreak," Thresh says with a grin.

"As long as we don't end up in one of those retro bars you love so much. I'd like to listen to some music after the 1960s," I reply.

"Music today is going down the drain. Your sister's latest releases are perfect examples of that," he says.

I grimace at the mention of Cashmere. I've hardly spoken to her since she ran Katniss out of town. I just don't trust her anymore and hollow apology voice mails and extravagant apology gifts aren't going to change my opinion about her.

"Cashmere seems to be going off the rails. I read she's lost five personal assistants in the last two months because she's so demanding. Didn't she throw a high heeled Jimmy Choo shoe at one of them?" Rue asks.

"Come on. You know most of those stories in the papers are bullshit," I reply.

Rue raises her eyebrow at me. Having met my sister on several occasions she knows that these stories are not out of the realms of possibility.

"It was a Louboutin," I reply with a smile.

We all laugh and the sound of it is so good that is tickles my skin and allows me to relax. I haven't laughed enough since Katniss left.

"Cash is losing control. First Gloss dumped her to continue his bachelor ways. Then her follow up single failed to make the top ten and now the press is filled with stories about her over the top behaviour. She's falling slowly into a pit of despair. I would feel sorry for her if she wasn't such a bitch," I say.

"You don't really mean that. You're too good to not care about her at all. I bet part of you is sad at seeing her spiral. She is your sister," Thresh says.

I take a deep breath as I shake my head. I don't want to care about her but Thresh is right. I don't like seeing her this way. I just wish she would realise all the damage she's done. If she sincerely apologised and stopped all the back stabbing and mind games I would be happy to welcome her back as my sister.

"I shouldn't have such complicated relationships with women. It messes with my head," I say.

Thresh nods his head in agreement and I decide that I won't wallow about Katniss and Cashmere anymore on this trip. I hardly see Thresh these days and don't want to ruin this time with my moping.

"So where are we going tonight?" I ask, desperate to change the topic.

A grin spreads across Thresh's face.

"I'm taking you to the best bar this side of town, The Hob," he states with a playful glint in his eye.

I smile back and hope a distraction is exactly what I need.

* * *

Later that night Thresh and I push into the crowded bar and manage to squeeze onto the end of a table at the back. Rue decided to let us have a boys' night out and is currently curled up in a blanket watching the latest boxset sensation.

The bar is a lot more rustic to what I'm used to in LA. There are lots of wooden panelling and up turned beer barrels acting as tables. It feels homely though and the smells of locally brewed beer are welcome.

"This place is packed. Is the beer really that good?" I ask as we sit down.

"It's pretty popular but the beer isn't the main draw. This place does the best live music," Thresh says.

"Yeah?" I ask, intrigued.

Thresh nods his head eagerly.

"You need to hear this band playing tonight. They're seriously good. They've got banjos and fiddles and a woman on the drums that looks like a cat. It's not the usual conventional country music but their song is getting a lot of air time on local radio at the moment. I've seen them a few times before but not since they got a new lead singer. She's seriously awesome, dude. I had to stop the car to listen to her the first time I heard their song on the radio," Thresh says.

I nod my head intrigued. Aside from Katniss, Thresh has the best taste in music of anyone I know. This band must be seriously good for him to be singing their praises so loudly.

"Can't wait to hear them," I say. "I'll go and get us some beers."

"Be quick. The band are due on soon," Thresh replies.

I nod my head and get up to push my way to the bar. There's a bit of queue when I reach it but I manage to squeeze my way in between two large gentlemen with tattoos covering their arms. I use my trademark smile to catch a waitress' attention and she smiles at me broadly as she takes my order.

Talking about music reminds me of Katniss. Her voice used to make me feel what Thresh is feeling now. My shoulders slump forward just a little at the memory of her singing. I pick at a beer mat in front of me as I wait for my beers and hear the band being announced on stage. I don't turn round to look at them as the waitress comes back and I dig into my wallet for some cash. The sound of a female voice cuts through the air though and after a round of cheers everything goes quiet.

"Good to see y'all again. The Hob is our favourite place to come. We're going to start with something a bit different tonight. Our girl Kat has just finished this new song. We think it's pretty great. We hope you do too. This is _Falling Slowly_ ," the voice says.

The lights suddenly dim down and the sound of an acoustic guitar begins to filter throughout the room. I can sense the anticipation of the crowd as the song starts, almost like the whole place is holding its breath. It reminds me of how Katniss captivated a room.

After a few bars a female voice starts to sing and it causes all the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

 _Falling slowly,_

 _Hardly notice,_

' _Til I've fallen deep._

There is only one voice that has ever made me feel this way. I would recognise it anywhere. Katniss.

I snap my head round and stare at her transfixed. Slowly I begin walking closer to the stage, leaving the beers behind. I briefly catch Thresh looking at me quizzically as I gravitate towards her. There are seven other people on stage but I don't notice them as my gaze firmly fixes on her. On the face I had almost given up hope of seeing again.

She's cut her hair and got a fringe but that was never going to disguise her captivating grey eyes and voice that makes birds stop to listen. She still wears the mockingjay pin above her heart. My heart begins beating rapidly in my chest as I move towards her. I can't believe I've stumbled upon her here.

Eventually I come to a stop near the front of the stage and look up at her in awe. The initial shock of seeing her again begins to wear off and I finally listen to the words that are being sung.

 _Falling slowly,_

 _Blue eyes, sunsets,_

 _Feels like coming home._

The piano and fiddle join in now but my heart stops as I let the lyrics sink in. Blue eyes. Sunsets. That's me. She's singing about me.

 _Friends or lovers?_

 _Maybe one day,_

 _I'll tell you how I feel._

I shake my head as I comprehend these words. When did she write this? After she left? Is this how she still feels?

Katniss doesn't notice me at first but I can't look away from her. She grips the microphone tightly and the emotion coming through her voice is so raw that I can't help but hope what she sings is true. That she did actually fall for me.

Eventually her eyes flick in my direction and I know she sees me by the way her eyes widen slightly. She quickly turns her gaze away and focuses on a spot on the other side of the room. I can't help but feel excited by the fact she caught me. I have so much to say to her and I'm not going to let her run this time.

The song comes to a gradual end and after a brief interlude from the bald bass player the band kick into a more up tempo number. I don't move from my spot and keep my eyes glued on Katniss for the rest of their set. She refuses to look in my direction but I can tell my appearance is agitating her. Her fingers tap rapidly against the microphone and her feet shift awkwardly as she tries to angle her body away from. The rest of the crowd are oblivious to her agitation and clap and cheer enthusiastically along. As the set draws to a close I ready my feet to rush after Katniss.

There are shouts for an encore once the set ends and while some members of the band seem happy to oblige, Katniss bolts off stage before anyone can strike up another note. The rest of the band look a bit confused about Katniss' quick exit but they just shrug their shoulders and begin packing up their instruments.

I turn immediately in the direction Katniss ran and am about to follow after her when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Dude? What's going on? Why did you leave me sitting at the back?" Thresh asks.

I sigh heavily as I turn to face my best friend.

"That's her. Katniss. She's lead singer of the band," I explain.

Thresh's eyebrows shoot up in surprise before they grow solemn.

"I know you're missing her but not every dark haired girl is going to be her," he says.

I shake my head fiercely.

"I'd recognise that voice anywhere. You couldn't see properly because you were at the back. That was Katniss Everdeen singing up there. It's like fate brought me here tonight," I reply.

"You don't believe in fate," Thresh reminds me.

"After tonight, I think I do. Only after I stopped looking for her did I find her," I say.

A slow smile spreads across Thresh's face and he looks at me with a greater understanding.

"You really love her, don't you?" he says.

"More than I thought possible," I reply.

"Then get a move on! She's probably half way out the building by now!" Thresh urges.

I give him a big smile and draw him in for a quick hug.

"Thanks, man. You were right. This trip was exactly what I needed," I say.

"Thank me later. Go and get your girl," he replies.

I give him one last smile before turning and pushing my way out of the crowded bar.

I head in the direction of the small backstage area and some of the other band members have begun to filter through. I'm about to go up and ask the foxy face red headed singer about Katniss when I catch sight of a dark head of hair darting down the corridor. It takes me a moment to process the sight but soon my feet move in the same direction and I begin calling her name.

"Katniss!" I call as I chase after her.

I push people rather unceremoniously out the way and a few dirty looks get thrown my way but I don't care in my haste to get to Katniss. She's fast though and it isn't until she gets stuck behind some bartenders carrying heavy boxes that I catch up to her. I gently touch her on the shoulder once I've reached her.

"Katniss…" I say softly.

She spins round and looks at me furiously.

"I told you to let me go! I didn't want you to come and find me!" she exclaims.

My body goes tense and my hand drops from her shoulder. I clench my jaw and narrow me eyes at her. How come she is the one that is angry?

"Believe it or not I stumbled upon you by accident tonight. I'm here visiting a friend. Thresh. You remember? The childhood friend I told you about that I played dinosaurs with and snuck sips out of my dad's drinks cabinet with. He wanted to cheer me up so took me out to hear this great band he's been raving about," I reply, trying to keep my temper under control.

This is not how I imagined this reunion happening.

There is a flicker of recognition when I mention Thresh's name as Katniss realises that my story could be plausible but she is stubborn and refuses to admit she is wrong. I'm still mad at her for accusing me and I take a step in closer to her. I hear a hitch of her breath as I do so and she drops her eyes to the ground.

"You don't get to accuse me. I understand why you wanted to run but you're the one that left without thinking about the consequences for the people you left behind. We've all been sick with worry. We didn't even get a call to know if you were alright," I say.

I pause briefly as I prepare myself to tell her what I wasn't brave enough to say in LA.

"I'd fallen in love with you and you just abandoned me," I say.

Katniss eyes shoot up and look at me passionately.

"I didn't think about the consequences? That's all I thought about. I left because that was the best thing for you!" she replies.

"And how did you decide that? Didn't I get a choice in any of it?" I ask.

Katniss steps back and shakes her head.

"You don't understand," she says quietly while playing with loose thread on her top. "You don't want to be in love with me. I ruin the people that love me."

Her comment makes me pause. Her gaze is firmly fixed on the thread on the top and she looks downtrodden and lost. And with that my anger disappears. I let out a loud breath and run a tired hand through my hair. I then take a step towards her and place my finger underneath her chin to tip it up and get her to look at me. When she locks her grey eyes onto mine I see just how scared she is.

"I can't stop loving you," I say softly. "And I don't think you want me to. That song you sang out there. _Falling Slowly_. That song is about me. I think you feel as strongly for me as I do for you."

Katniss stares at me for a long moment and I think I've gotten through to her. Her eyes soften slightly and I feel her release the tension in her shoulders. But then suddenly her eyes grow sad.

"It's just a song," she replies.

Then she spins out of my touch and sprints down the corridor. I curse and only take a moment to regather my thoughts before I chase after her. She can't run from every hard thing in her life.

The corridor is quieter now so it is easier to run after her but just as I am gaining on her a door on my right suddenly opens. A middle aged man walks out, crashing into me and letting Katniss get away.

"Damn it!" I exclaim as I pick myself up.

"Watch it, kid. You almost spilled my drink!" the man says.

"Sorry," I mumble, dusting myself down. "I was just trying to catch someone."

The man looks me up and down. He's wearing a tattered Stenson hat that covers most of his matted greying blond hair. He has a bottle of beer in one hand and he takes a sip out of it as he scratches his belly. A smug smile appears on his face as a hint of recognition crosses his features.

"Was wondering when you'd show up," the man says. "Nice to finally meet you, Peeta Mellark."

I turn to him with a frown.

"I'm sorry. Do I know you?" I ask.

"Haymitch Abernathy. Manager of Revolution and Katniss'…"

"Godfather," I finish for him. "We called you just after Katniss left LA but you said you hadn't seen her."

"I hadn't at that point. Didn't run into her until six weeks later and by then it was clear she didn't want people to find her," he replies. He then pauses and takes a long sip of his beer as he studies me carefully. "You're even more good looking in person. Beginning to see why she fell for you."

My heart beat picks up with excitement and I realise that this man may be more useful than I originally thought.

"She's talked about me? What did she say?" I ask eagerly.

Haymitch shakes his head and takes another sip of his beer.

"Don't flatter yourself. You must know Katniss doesn't talk about her feelings. But I always kept a close eye on her, even when she wasn't in contact with me, and it was obvious from the press photos of you two together that she had real feelings for you. She's not a very good actress and she can't fake a look like that. She fell deep," Haymitch says.

"If that's true then why does she push me away?" I ask desperately.

"And I thought you knew her, boy. That's exactly why she's pushing you away. Everyone she has ever loved has been taken away from her," he replies.

My shoulders slump forward and I drop my eyes to the ground.

"Then what do I do?" I ask.

Haymitch looks at me sympathetically and reaches out to place a hand on my shoulder. I look up at him and he gives me a reassuring smile.

"Don't give up on her. She is stubborn as hell but we both know that she is not always right. She's just going to take a lot of convincing," he says.

I smile at him gratefully and then Haymitch drops his hand from my shoulder, shoves his beer in my hand and begins rummaging about his pockets. Eventually he pulls out a slightly stained napkin and pen and quickly scrawls something on it.

"Here you go," he says handing me the napkin and taking back his beer. "This is her address. Convince her it's real."

* * *

 **A/N: I told you I wouldn't keep them apart for long! Though they aren't just going to fall back into what they had before. It will take time.**

 **Thanks for your all your reviews/follows/favourites. I hope you are still enjoy it.**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11

 _Katniss_

I slam the door of the apartment shut and slide down until I am crouching on the floor. I screw my eyes shut and tug on the ends of my short hair, desperately trying not to cry. He was never supposed to find me.

I shake my head to try and rid all thoughts of Peeta Mellark. I hate him for turning up tonight. Life was actually working out for me. My initial stint with the band was so successful that when Roxy recovered from her throat surgery they asked me to stay on permanently. Roxy and I share the lead vocals depending on the tone of each song. As a result, the band has booked more gigs and I have been too busy to think about the people I left behind in LA.

I slump against the door and let my heart slow down after sprinting half way across town. I'm not even sure if Peeta followed me. He wouldn't if he knew what was good for him but he can be stubborn when he wants to be. It would be easier for us all if he just left and didn't try to track me down again.

Sighing, I lean my head back against the door and strain my ears to try and catch any sounds of footsteps outside. My heart drops slightly when I hear only silence. Because, if I'm being totally honest with myself, part of me was happy to see him again tonight. And the selfish part of me wants him to knock on that door and take me in his arms.

Eventually I drag myself off the floor and hit the shower to try and rid the sweat from the gig and my run across town. My phone buzzes with lots of messages from the band, all wondering where I am and worried about whether I am okay. I ignore them all for now as I don't know how to explain everything to them yet. They all know that _Falling Slowly_ is about some guy I left behind but I've never given them more details. And they still don't know I'm Katniss Everdeen. They have done so much for me since I got to Tennessee and I'm scared to admit that I've been lying to them the entire time.

Once out the shower, I pull on a pair of sweats and tank top and pad through to the cluttered living room. I've been living with Cressida and Roxy for the last four weeks but tidiness is not Roxy's strong point and empty take-out boxes, dirty dishes and scrunched up song lyrics litter the room. I find space on the couch and pull out my song book, scribbling furiously as I try to work out my confrontation with Peeta earlier.

I'm so absorbed by my work that I almost miss the faint knocking on the door over an hour later. I jerk my head in the direction, trying to decide if I imagined the sound but then it happens again, this time more forceful. I take in a breath as I carefully put my notebook down and walk apprehensively towards the door. My heart hammers in my chest and I'm not sure if I'll be more disappointed if it is Peeta or not.

I stand on my tip toes and peek through the peep hole to see who it is. My heart does somersaults when I catch sight of a familiar set of blond curls. I open the door slowly to meet an apologetic Peeta standing in the hallway.

"I brought a peace offering," he says holding up a bakery bag. "Do you know how hard it is to find a bakery open at this time of night? They didn't have any cheese buns but I managed to buy some cheese and thought we could stuff the rolls with some and melt it on the grill."

My stomach growls loudly at the smell of the cheese. Peeta always knew that the easiest way to get me on side was to feed me. I relax my shoulders and Peeta senses that he is breaking me down.

"I want to start over. Forget that whole previous conversation. I never meant to ambush you," he says.

I smile at him gratefully and nod my head. He fixes his eyes on me and looks at me seriously.

"All I really wanted to say is that I miss you," he says.

He gives me a slightly nervous smile. These words cause the remaining walls around my heart to crumble and I let a small smile cross my face.

"I miss you too," I reply.

Peeta lets out a loud sigh of relief and runs his hands through his hair.

"Will you let me in? Help me eat these DIY cheese buns?" he asks.

I nod my head as I step aside to let him in.

"I may have some brie in the refrigerator. That's always good for melting," I reply.

"Sounds perfect," Peeta says as he follows me through to the kitchen.

Peeta's eyes widen slightly in surprise when he sees the mess but I quickly clean a space for us to work and pull out the cheese from the fridge. I'm not sure what I'll achieve by inviting Peeta in tonight. I probably owe him an apology for how I acted earlier but I struggle to find the words. If he wants to forget our earlier argument for now, that's fine by me.

Peeta removes his leather jacket, leaving him in a tight fitting white t-shirt. I try to not let my eyes linger on those well-defined muscles but the sight of his dandelion tattoo brings a whole new wave of nostalgia and memories of our last night together resurface.

We begin cutting up the rolls and shoving in blobs of cheese inside of them. Peeta asks questions about how I ended up in Tennessee and joined Revolution. The conversation is slightly stilted at first. Neither of us are sure of the other's boundaries and there is so much more me need to talk about but it's easiest to get the small talk out the way first. We both relax a little more as the conversation goes on and Peeta even manages to get a genuine laugh out of me.

"How's everyone in LA? Did Johanna manage to get her photos showcased in that art gallery?" I ask.

Peeta bobs his head.

"Yep. She even managed to sell one. Though she went home with one of the waiters that night. I think she was happier about that. They've been dating ever since," Peeta says with a grin.

"Johanna's got a boyfriend? Can't believe I'm not around to tease her about that," I say. "What about everyone else?"

"PK moved in with me and caught his first mouse. Finnick has just been nominated for best topless performance at the MTV Movie Awards and Gale has gone vegan," he says.

"Gale's vegan!" I exclaim. "What a hypocrite! He used to go hunting with his dad!"

Peeta laughs as he pulls the rolls out of the grill and places them on a rack to cool.

"He saw some documentary about the conditions of battery farms and has refused to touch meat and dairy since. Apparently it didn't go down well when he visited Madge and met her parents. They didn't take too kindly to his rant about the cruelty of killing baby animals after he was served venison," Peeta says.

I laugh and shake my head. Gale gets awfully passionate about certain things and it would have been quite a shock for the Undersees.

"So Gale and Madge are still seeing each other. And he's met the parents. Must be serious," I say.

"He's smitten with her. She's even thinking about coming and taking the LA Bar so she could work over here," he says. Then there is a short pause. "A lot's happened since you've been gone."

I turn to him with a sad smile but it soon turns into a smirk when I see a long piece of string hanging from his neck.

"Clearly. I see you're wearing necklaces now," I say flicking the end of the feather necklace round his neck. "Cashmere still giving you makeovers?"

Peeta smiles as he shakes his head and I pull out some plates for the rolls.

"I've hardly spoken to Cashmere since Thanksgiving. This was my own doing," he says.

I'm surprised to learn he and Cashmere have fallen out. Peeta was always more willing to overlook her actions. I wonder what the last straw was.

Peeta then lifts the end of the feather necklace up so I can take a closer look.

"Besides. See what bird it's from," he says.

"Mockingjay…" I reply in awe.

My heart beats rapidly as I get stuck staring into his blue eyes. I know I won't be the first to look away

"We have a lot to talk about," Peeta eventually says.

"Yeah. We do," I agree.

Peeta gives me a small smile before we take the DIY cheese buns through to the living room and squish together on the couch. Butterflies begin to swirl about in my stomach as I realise the small talk has ended and the serious stuff now needs to begin.

Peeta places his plate down on the cluttered coffee table and takes a deep breath as he turns to me.

"I guess I just want to know why you left without saying goodbye. The night of the chart party was one of the best of my life and I really thought you were falling for me too. It crushed me the way you left," he says.

My heart clenches as I hear him speak. I never wanted to hurt him.

"That night meant something to me too but the next day, when the photos came out, I knew I couldn't drag you down with me," I reply.

"Drag me down? Katniss, those photos were taken years ago. Gale told me all about them and I would never judge you for what you did while you were grieving. I know what type of person you are now," he replies earnestly.

He reaches out and clasps my hand in his. I'm shocked at first by the intimate gesture but soon relish the warmth that comes with it.

"Cashmere told me that your dealers had called and would back out if you were linked to me. I couldn't ruin your career," I reply.

Peeta's nostrils flare and he removes his hand as he turns to focus on a spot on the wall. He shakes his head as he clenches his jaw.

"My sister is unbelievable. She would have said anything to get you away. She knew exactly what buttons to press," he says bitterly.

I let him have a moment to feel anger over his sister. I know nothing I can say in this moment is going to make it any better. After a while he lets out a loud breath and turns back to face me.

"I bet my dealers wished they had pulled out. I've not painted anything since you left," he says.

"Peeta…why?" I ask in surprise.

"I have no inspiration. Every time I sit in front of that canvas my mind goes blank," he replies.

I look down at my lap and pick at a thread on my top.

"I didn't want that to happen," I mumble.

"Hey," Peeta says, reaching forward and tipping my chin up. "It's my fault. I don't blame you. I've been too distracted lately. It happens to every artist at some point."

I give him an unconvincing smile. He was supposed to be producing great works of art without me in his life but, even with me gone, I still found a way to ruin his career.

"I'm just so happy to see you again," Peeta adds, giving me a genuine smile.

I smile at him softly but am still unsure where this leaves us. Clearly my leaving wasn't the beneficial thing I thought it was.

"I'm not sure if I'll ever go back to LA," I eventually settle on saying.

"I'm not here to drag you back. I just want to be in your life in any way you let me. Even if that is as just your friend," he says.

"I don't think I can ever just be your friend," I admit.

I'm surprised by my honesty. Now he's here, I can't imagine him leaving. And already my arms ache with longing to wrap around him. Peeta just gives me a smile and reaches out to take my hand again. He interlinks his fingers with mine and I instinctively squeeze them tight.

"I can definitely work with that," he replies. "Let's take things slow with no commitments. Just don't run from me again."

I smile and nod my head.

"I can try and do that," I reply.

Peeta holds my stare for a long moment and grins. Warmth radiates out from my heart and life looks a lot better than it did half an hour ago.

Peeta only stays for forty minutes longer before he states he needs to get back to his friends. It's almost with reluctance that I say goodbye to him at the door with only a kiss on the cheek. We make plans for him to come and meet the band tomorrow after our gig. It gives me just less than twenty-four hours to work out how to tell them about Peeta and my life in LA.

But I'm a chicken and don't mention Peeta to the band until just before he is about to meet them. We hang out backstage after another successful gig and I pace up and down the room nervously. Pollux and Wiress jam away on Pollux's bongos, Beetee is asleep at the piano while Roxy helps touch up Tigris' make-up. Cressida notices my agitation and sidles up next to me, handing me a shot which I tip down my throat immediately.

"Thanks," I say as the liquid burns down my throat.

"No problem. You looked like you needed. What's got you so agitated?" she asks.

I sigh as I ruffle my hair. They asked why I disappeared after the gig yesterday but I lied and said I wasn't feeling well. I've got to be truthful this time.

"I've invited an old friend to come backstage tonight. He's someone I knew from LA," I admit.

Cressida smiles at me knowingly as she takes a sip of her drink.

"So he knows you're actually Katniss Everdeen and you're worried he's going to reveal your identity," Cressida replies.

My eyes shoot up in horror.

"You know?" I ask in surprise.

Cressida chuckles and shakes her head.

"Katniss, we've always known. We all love music and were ecstatic when Heath Everdeen's daughter released music. A new haircut wasn't going to stop us recognising you. We just figured you had reasons for us not knowing so we didn't push it," she replies.

I shake my head in disbelief.

"I can't believe you knew all this time. I feel like a right idiot," I say.

Cressida smiles at me reassuringly and slaps a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't sweat it. We love you either way. Now why don't you get that boy and introduce us to him. Maybe he'll share some of your dirty secrets," Cressida says with a grin.

I shake my head at her before she laughs and walks off towards Roxy. Roxy beams up at her as she slides down on to her lap and puts an arm around her shoulder.

The butterflies diminish slightly now I know they know my real identity. I take a deep breath as I prepare to go and meet Peeta and his friends so I can introduce them to the band. I tell the band I'm heading out and they all nod their heads in acknowledgement as I duck out the door.

Peeta stands exactly where I told him to be at the bar. He's wearing a simple red plaid shirt, thrown over a white t-shirt, and rolled up at the elbows. Desire courses through my body when I catch sight of his messy curls and bright blue eyes that light up when he sees me.

He's joined by two other people. One is a tall and broad dark skinned man with buzzed short black hair. His eyes are as dark as coal but he gives me a wide smile, showing off his brilliant white teeth, and this stops him from looking too intimidating. I can only assume this is Peeta's childhood friend, Thresh.

Beside Thresh is a petite young woman with curly black hair and amber coloured eyes. She is almost half the size of her husband and she stands on her tip toes to get a better look at me as I approach. I push towards them and give them a nervous smile.

"So glad you made it. I'm Katniss," I say, sticking out my hand.

"Oh, we know. We've had to spend the last six months hearing Peet prattle on about you," Thresh says. "But's nice to finally meet you. I'm Thresh by the way and this is my wife, Rue."

"Nice to meet you both. Peeta talks very highly of you," I say, shaking both of their hands.

"He was pretty heartbroken when we left LA," Thresh says teasingly.

Peeta laughs and claps his friend on the back.

"You were the one that cried when you left," Peeta replies.

"There was dust in my eye!" Thresh exclaims.

Rue and Peeta laugh and I smile too. Peeta catches my eye and gives me a warm smile.

"Thanks for inviting us. You look beautiful tonight," he says.

I blush and l want to look away but find I can't as Peeta's stare keeps hold of me. I'm only wearing a simple pair of dark jeans and white crop top but Peeta has always had the ability to make me feel beautiful.

"Thank you. You've scrubbed up well tonight too. Out to impress someone?" I reply.

Peeta smiles and keeps his eyes on me.

"There is only ever one girl I want to impress," he says.

I shake my head at him and Thresh and Rue roll their eyes.

"How come you guys didn't have sex last night?" Thresh asks. "You're mentally undressing each other right now!"

"Stop teasing them, honey! I came here to meet the band. Leave the locker room chat for another time," Rue says.

She turns to me with a kind smile and I give her a grateful one in return.

"You're a fan of the band?" I ask.

Rue nods her head eagerly.

"We've seen you a couple of times before and you get better each time. When can we hear an album?" she asks.

I sigh as I shake my head.

"That's a long story," I say as I turn to take them backstage.

Rue nods her head as we begin walking and asks about specific songs and our production process. I answer all her questions as best as I can while Thresh and Peeta follow closely behind. I turn to Peeta for reassurance that I am making a good first impression with his friends and he gives me an encouraging smile in return. I smile back at him, relieved, and then I feel a prickle of heat crawl up my skin as Peeta gently places his hand on the small of my back, helping guide me through the busy bar. The smile on my face appears not long after.

Everyone stops chatting when we enter the room and all eyes zone on the three people standing beside me. I make a few quick introductions before Thresh walks up to Castor. Castor scowls at the smiling man approaching him

"Awesome set tonight, dude. Your guitar in _Careers_ is genius. Do you think you could teach me some chords?" Thresh asks.

"I'm a professional musician. Not somebody's school teacher," Castor says, clutching his guitar closer to his chest.

Thresh looks a bit disappointed but Cressida steps forward to defuse the situation.

"Don't mind him. He's the resident grump of the group. You're better off trying Wiress. She'll be delighted to teach you a few chords on the banjo," Cressida says.

Wiress jumps up at the sound of her name and bounces her way over to Thresh, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards her banjo.

"Oh yes! I love teaching people! What's your favourite song?" she asks enthusiastically.

Thresh mutters one of our more popular songs and Wiress nods her head eagerly as she sits him down and places the banjo in his hands. After a few moments she gets him playing the basic chords. Thresh looks up with a massive proud grin on his face.

"See, Rue. I could totally be in a band," he says playfully.

His wife rolls her eyes but walks across to join him. They both listen intently to Wiress as she teaches Thresh the more complicated chords.

Peeta stands beside me, his hand resting against my back, and Cressida and Roxy saunter over to us, their arms around each other's waist.

"So you're the _Falling Slowly_ guy," Cressida states.

Peeta turns to me with a smug look. I denied yesterday that the song was about him and he's pleased that he's now caught me out in the lie.

"I thought you said it was just a random song?" he says with a grin.

"Don't be cocky," I warn.

Peeta chuckles and slips his arm round so he can pull me closer to his front. He buries his nose into my hair and leans in to whisper in my ear.

"I'd have been offended if you didn't write a song about me. I thought I deserved at least one song after the night we had," he says.

I twist round so we are nose to nose.

"You were never going to be just a hook up song," I reply.

My whole body hums with energy and I want nothing more than to reach up and kiss him senseless. But we have a crowd and I get enough stick from the band about my love life as it is.

Peeta doesn't say anything in reply but his features soften and he looks at me lovingly while his hand around my waist gives me a little squeeze. Cressida and Roxy watch us with smiles on their faces.

"Well, we're glad to finally meet you. It's nice to know that Kat can actually smile," Cressida says.

Peeta turns to her with a grateful smile and the two of the begin talking about the tattoos they both have. I stand beside, listening to them both until Pollux drags me away to play beer pong against Beetee and Castor. Peeta and his friends fit right in with the relaxed nature of the band and don't question the various eccentric personalities in the room.

The drinks keep flowing and later I stand watching Peeta and Tigris chatting about her make-up. The majority of people are scared of Tigris when they first meet her. The cat make-up can be intimidating and most judge her before they give her a chance to speak. But Peeta has always had an eye for beauty and only sees her appearance as something unique and beautiful.

"So is it all make-up?" Peeta asks. "Or is some of it tattoos?"

"All make-up. I blend it all myself. I have various different versions but my stage make-up takes up to three hours to apply," Tigris replies.

"It's fantastic," Peeta says as he peers closely at it. His fingers reach up to trace the patterns in the air. "What did you use to make this burnt orange? I've mixed lots of oranges in my life but never this particular shade."

I smile as Tigris explains her process and Peeta looks at her with deep concentration. He only stops her to ask if she minds if he sketch her. Tigris blushes but agrees and Peeta grins as he pulls out a paper napkin and begins sketching lines onto it.

Haymitch sidles up beside me and passes me a beer.

"Your boy is quite something, sweetheart," Haymitch says. "I don't think I've ever seen Tigris smile so much."

"Peeta likes to see the good things in people," I reply.

Haymitch nods his head as we continue to watch him.

"Not what I expected you to fall for. He's so sunny," Haymitch says.

"What's that supposed to mean? I'm darkness?" I snap.

"Sweetheart, you're the stormy spring shower," he says leaning in closer to me.

I scrunch up my nose as his stale breath hits my face and cross my arms defensively. Haymitch just chuckles.

"Just don't screw it up this time," Haymitch adds.

I turn to scowl at him but at that moment the door swings open and Wiress dances in waving something in the air. She left about twenty minutes ago to use the bathroom and we all turn to her, curious about her good mood.

"I got us a record deal! I got us a record deal!" she chants over and over again.

The band all look between each other with a confusion. Wiress often gets things mixed up and we're not sure what's prompted this statement.

"That's great!" Rue says, getting up and putting an arm around Wiress. "Congratulations!"

Wiress beams at her but Haymitch shakes his head. He makes his way over until he stands in front of Wiress.

"Don't break out the champagne yet," he says to Rue before turning to Wiress. "What record deal did you get us?"

Wiress shoves a business card in front of his face and smiles proudly.

"A man from Tribute Records wants to sign us. He gave us his card so we can go and meet his bosses!" Wiress exclaims.

The whole band groans and Peeta and his friends look around confused.

"I don't get it," Thresh says. "Why are you all so disappointed by this? I've been waiting to buy an album for months!"

Castor turns to him with a shake of the head.

"It's always the same. Some scout sees us and arranges a meeting but as soon as the record bosses see us, they get scared and politely decline. No one wants to promote a band with a bald chick, mute and cat lady. We're not _'record label material'_ ," Castor explains.

"But that's exactly why they should sign you," Peeta suddenly pipes up. "The music industry needs someone different. Someone who is going to speak to that sexually confused boy who wants to try on dresses and the girl in school who is too scared to speak because of her stammer. The reason your fans love you is because you are different. And so many of your songs speak about that tolerance and acceptance."

"That's easy for you to say, pretty boy," Castor says. "You've got everything you wanted because of floppy hair and a good smile. It's a lot harder for people like us."

Peeta looks pensive as he turns and surveys everyone in the room. It certainly is the most random bunch of people I've ever seen but I think Peeta is right. This band could mean something.

He then looks back down at the sketch he drew of Tigris and slowly a smile spreads across his face. He holds the picture up to get a better look at it before turning to the rest of us with a grin.

"I think I've got an idea," he says.

He catches my eye from across the room and we share a smile. Suddenly I have every faith he knows exactly how to help us.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for the continued support. We're on the end stretch now so hope you continue to enjoy.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

 _Peeta_

"So you've finished the first portrait already?" Finnick says as we drive up the long driveway.

"Roxy was the easiest person to paint. Her features are so defined," I reply.

Finnick bobs his head, pretending he understands what I am talking about, as he hangs his arm out the window. He's asked a lot of questions since I got back to LA a month ago. He couldn't quite believe everything that happened while I was in Tennessee.

"I think it's genius. Everyone is already talking about your new work and all you've released is a teaser for a teaser!" Finnick exclaims.

I smile as we pull up outside Cashmere's house. I'm pretty excited about the amount of buzz I've already gained for my next art show. It's all part of the plan to help Revolution get a record deal.

Inspiration suddenly hit me in Tennessee. I was captivated by Revolution from the first moment I met them. They are an eclectic bunch of people, each with a fascinating story to tell. There is Tigris who feels more at home around animals than people. Cressida who was disowned by her family when she came out and Beetee, who was on course to graduate MIT with a first class honours until he fell asleep at the lab and almost caused the whole place to burn down. I knew from the very beginning I had to capture the images of the people so their stories can be shared with the world.

But I learned early on in my career that marketing is the most important thing. Over the next couple of months I plan to release snippets of each portraits with a lyric to one of their songs attached. The final portraits and band will be unveiled at my gallery opening and hopefully by then there will be a lot of intrigue and interest over the band. If my plan works, they should even grab the attention of the record companies. It's the least the band deserved.

The snippet from Roxy's portrait is due to be released today but I sent out a tweet with the title of my art show last week and already I've been flooded with messages inquiring more about it. We just need to build on this momentum.

Finnick and I hop out the car and walk towards the house I called home for three years. I'm surprised just how unaffected seeing the house makes me. It was always my sister's. She made it very clear that I was just her lodger. Most of my favourite memories in this house occurred only after Katniss arrived.

My key still works and Finnick follows me into the grand entrance way. We both crinkle our noses at the unpleasant smell that lingers. We stand, surveying the area for a moment, noting the layer of dust and dead plants on the shelves. It never looked like this when I lived here.

"Jesus. What has your sister being doing in here?" Finnick asks as he picks up a dirty and sopping wet rag.

I shrug my shoulders as I try to step around the mess to get to the basement.

"I don't care. Let's just get my paints and get out of here," I say.

Finnick nods his head in agreement and follows me through to the back. We don't get very far before a female voice calls through.

"Peeta? Is that you?" Cashmere calls.

I stop and curse myself for getting caught. I don't want a confrontation with her. Finnick looks at me sympathetically as we hear Cashmere's footsteps pad through. Reluctantly I turn around to look at her.

It's a shock when I first lay eyes on her. Never in my twenty-five years have I seen Cashmere looking this way. She's wearing a pale blue robe with food stains down the front and her hair is a greasy knot on top of her head. For once she's not wearing make-up and I catch sight of a circle of spots resting on her chin. I stand staring at her with my mouth agape.

Cashmere smiles when she sees me and scrambles towards me.

"I knew you would come back eventually. You always do what I say," she says.

I take a step back away from her and shake my head. The smile drops on her face and she looks confused.

"You don't look good, Cash," I say.

Her defences come up and she quickly smooths back her hair before crossing her arms over her chest.

"My stylist quit. As did all the house staff. Those ungrateful bitches couldn't handle working for me anymore," Cashmere says bitterly.

"Cashmere, you've been charged with assault against your personal assistant. I think your staff have every right to feel undervalued," I reply.

"That bitch provoked me!" she snaps. "I threw that shoe in self-defence!"

I raise my hands up in a surrendering gesture and shake my head in disbelief. She's deluded. It makes me sad to see her this way. There is very little of the big sister that I loved left. Finnick turns to me with a look that says "She's crazy".

Cashmere drops her arms to her side and takes a deep breath before composing herself and turning to me with a smile again. She reaches out to wipe off a bit of fluff on my shirt and I stiffen at her touch.

"Snow Records are threatening to throw me out. But I've brought them the most success over the last eight years. They are not going to get rid of me. Not now you're here. You'll help me. Won't you? You'll let me play at your gallery opening. You'll tell Plutarch that if Snow Records throw me out, you'll leave his management," Cashmere says.

I remove her hand from my chest and clench my jaw as I look down at her.

"You know, Cash, if you had just come out and apologised to me I might have actually helped you. But you never really cared about me. You are always your number one priority and I am sick of playing your puppet. You are going to have to figure this out on your own," I state.

Cashmere looks shocked but Finnick looks impressed. Anger begins to flare in Cashmere's eyes but I'm not going to get into a fight. There's nothing else to be gained from it. I turn away from her and continue my way to the basement. Finnick tips his head at her before darting after me. Once we've turned the corner we hear Cashmere let out a frustrated scream.

* * *

"It's gone live!" Finnick exclaims.

I take my eyes off the portrait of Beetee and wipe my paint covered hands on a rag while PK brushes up against my legs. I bend down to scratch the cat's ears as Finnick bounds over with his tablet and places it in front of me. The snippet of Roxy's portrait fills the screen, just a section showing her fox shaped nose. It is the part of her body Roxy is most self-conscious about but I want these portraits to celebrate imperfections. I'm trying to tell her it is her nose that makes her unique. Underneath the snippet is a quote from one of the band's songs:

 _Love is loving all the crazy #PeetaMellark#JointheRevoultion_

Already messages begin to appear below the image. PK swots at my leg, begging to be picked up, and I scoop him into my lap as I watch more messages pop up, with a smile.

 _OMG! New paintings by Peeta Mellark! When can I see more? #impatient#JointheRevolution_

 _AHHH! I need to know who this is! #Guesswho#JointheRevolution_

 _Beautiful quote. Sums up my life perfectly #JointheRevolution_

"I'm excited and I know who the band is," Finnick adds.

"It's going better than even I thought," I admit. "I just wish I was with them to see their reactions to the snippets."

"You fly out next week, right? Hoping to give some Katniss some love?" Finnick says, giving me a cheeky wink.

"I'm not doing this because of Katniss. I would help the band even if Katniss wasn't involved," I reply.

"Sure you would. Just the prospect of getting laid makes the whole thing a lot easier," Finnick replies.

I thump him on the arm and he makes a small noise of discomfort before he rubs the tender spot.

"You know I only joke about it because I know how in love you are with her. I'm a little jealous," Finnick adds.

"Finnick Odair? Jealous? What happened to love being a jail sentence?" I ask.

Finnick shrugs his shoulders and begins picking at his nails.

"I guess seeing you, Gale and even Johanna loved up makes me wonder what I'm missing. Even though you were a mopey asshole when Katniss left you can't keep the smile off your face now. I guess I want a piece of that," he admits.

I smile at him as I shake my head. Finnick falling in love sounds absurd but then a lot of strange things have happened these last few months so I won't rule it out.

"Don't worry, man," I say clapping him on the shoulder. "I'm sure there's a girl out there for you."

Finnick grins at me, grateful that I'm not making fun of him, but then my phone starts ringing. I put PK back down so I can answer it and the cat scampers off to play with one of his toys. Plutarch's name flashes up on the screen and I take a deep breath to prepare myself for him.

"Peeta you are a genius! I've already got hundreds of calls asking about who the person in the painting is. It's not some secret love you've got tucked away because you know I'll have to write a press release if it is," he asks.

"No lover. Just a friend. I told you. She's part of this band I found. Their music is pretty good. You should pass that on to Mr Snow," I say.

"Of course, of course. I just got an email from him. He's very intrigued and would love to meet the band. When do you want me to set it up?" Plutarch asks.

"Not going to happen, Plutarch. The band aren't going to be unveiled until my gallery opening. Mr Snow is going to have to be patient like everyone else," I reply.

I need everyone talking about the band before they meet Snow. He needs to see the interest and desire for them.

"You make my job difficult, Peeta. Snow is used to getting what he wants. I guess I'll think of some way to postpone him," Plutarch sighs.

"You'll find a way, Plutarch. You're the best at your job," I reply.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my boy. Enjoy your vacation next week. I'll handle things here," Plutarch says.

"Thanks, Plutarch. Couldn't do any of this without you," I say.

"Of course not," he says. "Goodbye, Peeta."

I say goodbye too before hanging up. When I go back through to Finnick he shouts out some of the comments about my portrait teaser. Excitement and intrigue is evident and I become even more eager to release the next one.

* * *

A week later I step off the plane in Nashville and make my way to baggage reclaim. It's been four weeks since I last came here. Four weeks since I've seen Katniss in the flesh and not just through a screen. My heart begins to beat rapidly in anticipation of seeing her. I slick my hair back and make sure I still smell okay as I walk through and begin scanning the arrivals gate for her.

It takes me a moment to locate her but she smiles at me broadly when I do. Wiress stands beside her and I'm already half running to get to her. Katniss jogs to meet me half way. In a few short strides we reach other and her arms immediately wrap round my neck and pull me down for a kiss. I'm pleasantly surprised by the actions and go to squeeze her tighter but Katniss suddenly pulls back and looks down at the floor embarrassed.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to do that," she says as she chews on her bottom lip.

I reach forward to tip her head up and look at her straight in the eye.

"Never apologise for kissing me," I say with a smile.

A smile spreads across Katniss' face and she relaxes her shoulders a little. I tug her towards me again to give her another brief kiss.

"Hi," I say. "Nice to see you too."

Katniss laughs and buries her head into my shoulder and Wiress cheers from beside us. Katniss and I are taking things slow. I took her on a few dates the last time I was in Tennessee and nothing more happened than a couple of chaste kisses happened. Her enthusiastic greeting today is a real boost.

We've not labelled what we are but we both know we care about each other deeply. I refrain from telling her I love her again, still a little scared she'll run off if I do. Whatever relationship we have, it is still very new.

"How's PK?" Katniss asks. "Are you still looking after him for me?"

"He gets more energetic every day. But he misses you almost as much as I do. He chases after every girl with long dark hair," I reply.

Katniss laughs as she peeks up to look at me. Many of our video calls have been interrupted by the lively cat but she's told me on many occasions she's glad I adopted him while she's been away.

I carefully let go of Katniss and reach round to one of the pockets in my bag. I pull out a half-eaten packet of Skittles and present them to Wiress.

"I saved you some from the plane. Hope you enjoy them," I say.

Wiress grips the bag eagerly and nods her head.

"Skittles are my favourite! I like the orange ones best," Wiress replies.

"Orange is my favourite colour," I say.

Wiress beams at me and begins chattering about all her favourite colours. Katniss turns to me with an affectionate smile and slides her hand down to give mine a little squeeze.

"Thank you," she mouths.

I smile back and the three of us walk towards the baggage carousel. Once we've collected my old duffle bag we head out to the car. I have to finally break hold of Katniss' hand as I slide into the passenger seat while Wiress slides into the back.

"The picture of Roxy was so great, Peeta. Have you finished my picture yet?" Wiress asks.

"Not quite," I reply. "I want it to be perfect for you."

"Katniss already thinks you're perfect. She's written lots of songs about you," Wiress states.

I turn to Katniss with a raised eyebrow.

"Lots of songs. I must make quite an impression," I say with a smile.

"What else am I supposed to do when I miss you?" Katniss replies.

I laugh and lean forward to place a kiss on her temple.

"I can't wait to spend some alone time with you again," I sigh.

Katniss turns to me briefly and gives me a soft smile.

"Me too. But it's going to have to wait. The band are all playing mini-golf and they want you to come along," she says.

"Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling this is some sort of initiation test to see if I'm suitable boyfriend material?" I say.

Katniss smiles again and shakes her head.

"The band are very protective and you didn't spend all that much time with them last time anyway," she replies.

"Don't worry, Peeta. I like you," Wiress says sucking on a Skittle.

I turn round to her with a smile.

"Thanks, Wiress. Think you can put in a good word for me?" I ask.

Wiress nods her head and I grin again. Katniss manages to exit the airport car park and we head towards the mini-golf.

The rest of the band waits for us when we get there. Castor and Cressida get some practice swings in while the rest all stand chatting in groups. Wiress skips out the car once we've parked and Katniss slips her hand in mine as we walk over. Haymitch is here too and he tips his hip flask at me once we've approached.

"Ready for some friendly competition?" he asks.

"Trying not to be intimidated by you all. I just want to make a good impression," I reply.

"Hey, you've got me convinced. Anyone who can get her to smile is worth something and that's before I've thanked you for what you are doing for the band. Castor and Cressida are probably your biggest worries," he saying pointing his thumb in their direction.

Sure enough they both watch me carefully. I learned from my last visit that Castor is wary of anyone from a privileged up-bringing and that Cressida is concerned I'm only helping them for my own publicity.

"Thanks for the tip. Hopefully my golf skills won't let me down," I say.

Haymitch smiles and nods his head. Wiress then comes running over to me and drags me out of Katniss' grip.

"Peeta, you're on my team!" Wiress exclaims. "Katniss you're with Haymitch."

Both Katniss and Haymitch roll their eyes.

"The drinking stops now, Haymitch," Katniss replies. "I don't want a drunk on my team."

"Fine," Haymitch grumbles as he stuffs the hip flask back in his pocket. "But you don't let pretty boy distract you."

"Fine," Katniss says through gritted teeth.

I bite back my laugh as I watch them continue to bicker as they go and collect their clubs. This could be a very entertaining afternoon.

Beetee steps up first and takes a long time to take his first shot as he bends down and lines up his club with the hole. Castor exhales loudly as he impatiently taps his foot.

"Sometime today would be nice, Beetee," he sighs.

Beetee seems unperturbed and continues to analyse the best route to the hole before finally standing up straight to face Castor.

"It's all about the angles. If I hit that corner at 45 degrees the ball will ricochet off and end up in the hole," Beetee explains.

Most of the band roll their eyes.

"It's just a game. Not a physics test," Roxy says.

"Always helps to be prepared," Beetee replies.

He then lines up his shot and finally hits the ball in the direction he's planned. Unfortunately he misses his intended target and his ball ends up getting stuck between two rocks. Most of the band laugh and Beetee sighs.

"Of course it helps if you can actually aim," he mumbles.

I give him a smile before Wiress drags me up to the tee.

"Our go now!" she declares.

She excitedly puts down our ball and readies herself for the first shot. Cressida looks at us with an amused smile on her face.

"Just so you know, Peeta, for every hole you and Wiress win, you buy us a round of drinks," Cressida says.

"And if you win a hole, you all buy me drinks, right?" I reply.

Cressida laughs and shakes her head.

"Nah. It's only a way for you," she replies. "Think you can handle that?"

I smile at her but Wiress demands that I pay attention for our first shot. She pulls her arms back, whacking the ball towards the corner Beetee mentioned earlier. The ball bounces off the corner at just the right angle, sending the ball straight into the hole. Wiress jumps up triumphantly in the air and turns to throw her arms around me.

"Hole in one! We rule!" she exclaims.

I smile in agreement as I return her hug.

"Looks like I've got the best partner here. Are you ready to thrash the competition?" I say to her.

Wiress bobs her head eagerly and begins chattering about how her granddad used to take her to mini-golf as a kid. I listen carefully, smiling and nodding in all the right places. I catch Castor and Cressida's eye as Wiress continues to talk and they give me a small impressed smile. I think I'm more likely to pass their initiation test by how I treat Wiress than by how many drinks I buy them at the end of the afternoon.

The mini-golf becomes very competitive as the afternoon wears on. Wiress continues to hit great shots but my own play is awful and I hit our ball out of play on a few occasions. Wiress doesn't seem to mind that I'm dragging our team down and her constantly positive attitude stops me getting too frustrated with myself. Surprisingly, Katniss and Haymitch prove to be our biggest competition. Katniss is very accurate and Haymitch probably has the best technique of us all.

"Now, you're trying to avoid the river, Peeta," Katniss leans in to whisper in my ear.

I try my best to ignore her by narrowing my eyes and focusing on the ball in front of me. But this is difficult when her familiar scent of earth and pine fill my nostrils. I squirm a little to try and stop my body reacting to her.

But Katniss knows exactly what she is doing. I can practically feel the smile on her lips as they brush against my ear.

"Do you want any pointers?" she whispers again, placing her hands on my waist.

It takes all my will power to shake her hands off me.

"I'm fine, thank you. Concentrate on your own game," I reply.

"Okay," she replies.

But she doesn't move her body away from me. I try my best to block her out as I take a deep breath before swinging the golf club back and hitting the ball down the green. It doesn't end up in the river but I over hit it and the ball whizzes past the hole and bounces off the back wall.

"Better luck next time," Katniss says.

I twist round to find her grinning at me smugly. I've had enough of her little games today. She's done her best to distract me with gentle hand touches and whispered words in my ear. I've played fairly up until now but I think it's about time we got even.

I drop my golf club to the ground and tug Katniss towards me before she has time to register what is happening. I grasp her head in my hands and pull her up to give her a deep kiss. She's startled at first but soon relaxes and kisses me back. I slip my tongue out to coax her tongue into my mouth we tangle them together for a couple of minutes. Katniss sighs in content before I abruptly pulling back and stepping away from her. Katniss wobbles slightly as I let her go and looks a little dazed. Cressida and Tigris cheer loudly at my sudden display of affection while Haymitch looks a bit disturbed.

"I believe it's your turn," I say.

Katniss nods her head dumbly and walks up to take her shot. However she's still dazed from the kiss and doesn't line up the ball properly. She hits it too hard and the ball bounces off the wall and into the small stream running by. I walk up to her and lean in to whisper in her ear.

"I can give you some pointers if you want," I say smugly.

Katniss turns to me with a scowl and I laugh lightly before we step away to let the next person take their shot. Cressida walks up and slaps me on the back.

"Well played, Peeta. That kiss almost made me want to turn straight," Cressida says.

Haymitch grumbles and shakes his head.

"I'm getting too old to see things like that," he says.

Katniss blushes and I smile as I sling my arm around her shoulders.

"I promise to keep things behind closed doors," I reply.

"Can we please stop talking about this? There's still a competition to be won," Katniss says.

I smile down at her, nodding my head and placing a kiss on her temple.

"Whatever you say," I reply.

Katniss seems satisfied by this and doesn't move from my grip as we turn to watch Cressida take her shot. Just after she's played a teenage boy tentatively approaches our group. He looks about sixteen and has pimply skin and mousy brown hair. He wrings his hands nervously once he comes to a stop in front of us.

"Are you Revolution? I thought I recognised you from across the park," the boys says.

He can't quite pronounce his r's properly and they sound more like w's and he looks a little embarrassed whenever he says one.

Cressida nods her head and smiles kindly at him.

"Yes, we are. Are you a fan?" she asks.

At this the boy brightens up and nods his head eagerly. He drops his hands to his sides and stops wringing them together.

"I saw you play at The Bandstand a few weeks ago. You've changed my life," the boy replies.

"That's an awfully big statement to make," Castor says.

The boy turns to him and nods his head.

"Your songs are just so inspiring. People make fun of my speech all the time and I've always been told I've not been good enough for certain things but your song _Careers_ changed how I feel about myself," the boys says.

I know the song he is talking about. It has one of the most positive messages. It's about a person that has always been told they couldn't achieve the things they wanted to. But the person was stubborn and pursued their passion. By the end of the song they have achieved the success they wanted. I can see why this song appealed to this boy.

"I've wanted to join the debate team ever since I knew what it was but people always told me I couldn't be in it because of my speech. But after hearing _Careers_ I knew I had to stop being scared. I joined a couple of weeks ago and the teacher says I show real promise. I'm even here with my friends from the club today," the boy says.

He waves his hand in the direction of his friends and we all turn to look at them. Some eye the band warily, unsure who they are, but other clearly recognise them and look on in wonder. Cressida waves over at them and some of them looked shocked that a band is acknowledging them.

"That's great," Cressida says. "That's exactly what the song was supposed to achieve. Do you want to invite your friends over here for a picture?"

The boy nods his head eagerly before calling over his friends. They seem a bit unsure at first but once they see how welcoming the band is they relax and join us with smiles. I offer to take photos on phones as everyone gets into position. The boy that first came over is obviously over the moon to meet his idols and his friends now think him seriously cool for getting them this picture. It warms my heart to see how much the band has helped this boy.

Because this is what music should be about. It should inspire people. I honestly believe that Revolution can represent every person out there that has felt that they don't fit in. They could change the music industry.

The band chat with the teenagers for a little while until a group behind us gets impatient and asks us to move on. The group of teenagers all leave with smiles on their faces as they chat about how cool Revolution are.

Katniss comes back over to me and slips her arm around my waist.

"I think you were right. This band can mean something," she says.

I smile down at her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We've just got to convince the rest of America to join the revolution," I reply.

* * *

 **A/N: Only two more chapters to go after this and Katniss will be heading back to LA soon. Thanks to everyone that has followed/favoruited/reviews this story.**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13

 _Katniss_

Wiress peers out the small round window as the plane begins to land.

"It's so shiny!" she says in awe.

I give her a small smile while Castor rolls his eyes.

"It is just like every other big and heavily polluted city in the US. You don't need to get all gooey eyed over it," Castor grumbles.

"Oh, come on, Castor," Roxy replies. "Can't you show excitement for once in your life? We're about to be the star attractions of a swanky Hollywood event!"

"Don't come crying to me when they all laugh in our faces," Castor huffs.

Cressida lets out a loud sigh and Wiress frowns.

"If you always expect bad things to happen then nothing good will happen to you," Wiress replies.

Castor opens his mouth to argue back but Cressida shoots him down with a glare. I've seen first-hand what happens to Wiress when people get overly negative. She can't cope with it and normally ends up rocking in a corner with her hands over her ears. We don't want a repeat of that on a crowded plane.

I try to distract Wiress with a conversation about her favourite song to play and soon her attention is turned away from Castor. The smile appears on her face soon after as she chats animatedly about chords and rhythms. Her enthusiasm is so infectious that it even distracts me from my own nervous thoughts about being back in LA.

The last few weeks have been crazy. Over the course of two months, Peeta has released teasers of every portrait of the band and the intrigue, particularly in LA, has been huge. I've turned the TV on in the morning to find news anchors and gossip columnists discussing this mysterious band.

In the last month Peeta has also released sound bites of some of our songs and the internet has gone into a frenzy for the thirty second clips. Demand for the full songs are high and Snow Records have been so impressed by the buzz that a meeting with the band has been arranged for the day after Peeta's gallery opening. They haven't even heard a full song yet but Plutarch says they have already drawn up contracts for us to sign.

Peeta's gallery is finally opening on Saturday and he's invited the band to play at the grand opening. It is being billed as one of _the_ events in LA this summer. Numerous famous faces and important music and art executives are due to attend and I begin to panic when I think about being in the limelight again. I thought I was used to this business but it's even more overwhelming than the first time.

The air stewardess announces for everyone to get back into their seats for preparation for landing. Wiress squeals with delight.

"We're almost there, Katniss! Can you believe it! The city of dreams!" she exclaims.

I force a smile and turn away from the window. I didn't think I would ever be back in LA. My last memory here isn't a good one. My heart begins to pound as the LA skyline looms underneath us.

* * *

The rest of the band hang out the windows of the cars as we weave through the LA streets. There are squeals of delight every time one of them recognises something they've seen on TV or in a movie. Cressida and Roxy begin to make excited plans about all the things they want to see while we are here. I sit quietly in the back, wondering if I can just hide out in the hotel the entire time we are here.

There are even more amazed looks when we enter the hotel. Peeta insisted on splurging on our accommodation and booked us into a trendy boutique right in the centre of LA. Wiress takes a running jump onto the fluffy king sized bed in our room. She snuggles into the covers and inhales the lavender that has been left on the pillow.

"I feel like a queen!" she declares.

I smile at her fondly as I pull my suitcase into the room. Cressida and Roxy barge into our room a few moments later with huge smiles on their faces.

"Have you seen the showers yet? They have like ten different settings! I'm definitely going to be putting that to good use later," Cressida says, winking at Roxy.

Roxy giggles and snuggles into her girlfriend. She places her head on Cressida's shoulder and Cressida smiles affectionately at her as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You'll have to give Peeta a big reward for all this," Roxy adds with a suggestive smile.

"You'll get on with my friend, Johanna. She is always thinking about sex too," I reply.

"Don't be a prude. The moans coming from your room the last time Peeta visited tell us that you have just as dirty a mind," Cressida says.

I blush and look down at my shoes. Peeta and I decided that we were tired of taking things slow on his last visit to Tennessee and he kept me up most of the night. I've never cum so many times in one night and I definitely walked a bit funny the next day.

Wiress giggles when she hears our conversation and sits up straighter on her bed.

"When is Peeta coming anyway? I bought him Skittles," she asks.

I give her a genuine smile. The prospect of seeing Peeta is the only thing I've looked forward to in LA.

"He said he'd make it just before dinner. It's all hands on deck with the gallery opening this weekend," I reply.

Everyone in the room nods their heads in understanding.

"That gives you plenty of time to beautify yourself before he arrives. You stink of plane at the moment," Cressida says.

"I've got some bikini wax strips in my suitcase if you need to use some," Roxy adds.

I shake my head at them as I begin pushing them out the room.

"Get out and go and have sex. I don't need a makeover," I say.

"Suit yourself," Cressida says, shrugging her shoulders. She then turns to Roxy who leans up to place a kiss on her lips. "We've got things to things to do anyway."

I shake my head again before finally shoving them out of the room and closing the door. Wiress grins at me when I turn round.

"Wanna play Boggle?" she asks.

I laugh and nod my head.

"Sure. But go easy on me. You know I suck at this game," I say as I sit down on the bed next to her.

"That's because you go for all the obvious words!" Wiress exclaims.

I smile as she pulls out the game and grabs a pad of paper. Wiress always knows the best ways to distract me when I'm feeling apprehensive.

There is a knock on the door later that evening and Peeta stands on the other side with PK when I open it. I smile when I see the orange tabby cat and pick him out of Peeta's arms to give him a big cuddle. PK immediately begins purring in my arms.

"PK! You've gotten so big? Are you having fun staying with Peeta?" I ask.

PK meows in response and I squeeze him tight before Peeta coughs to get my attention. I look away from PK to look at Peeta. He's wearing a faded grey t-shirt and has dust and paint on his face to go along with his beautiful smile. I gently place PK on the ground and wrap my arms tightly around him before he has time to say anything else.

"I've missed you," I mumble into his shoulder.

I feel him chuckle as I hold him close and he pulls back slightly to look at my face. He reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Clearly not as much as you missed PK," he says. "But I couldn't even go home to change before coming to see you. I couldn't wait any longer."

I smile up at him and reach on my toes to place a lingering kiss on his lips. Peeta smiles into it and I relish the warmth that emits from his body. However, we are interrupted by Wiress bounding over to us.

"Peeta!" she exclaims. "I missed you!"

Peeta and I break away and Peeta tucks me into his side. He smiles broadly at Wiress.

"I missed you too. How's learning to play the banjulele?" he replies.

"Going really well. I like that it is so small but still makes a loud sound," she says. "I'm so excited about the gallery opening. When can we see the paintings?"

"Thursday. You guys are going to be the first people to see the whole show," Peeta replies.

"It's so exciting. This is going to be the best trip ever!" Wiress declares.

"I hope so," Peeta agrees. "Shall we go and get the rest of the band. I'm starving."

Wiress nods her head before she skips into the room to pick up her purse. We leave PK playing with some new cat toys I bought him before going to meet the rest of the band. We're going to one of my favourite Italian restaurants tonight and just the thought of the creamy pasta makes my stomach rumble.

Peeta slips his hand into mine as we walk down the corridor.

"I hope you don't mind, but I invited Finnick, Gale and Johanna to join us after the meal. They really want to see you," he says.

My heart clenches with longing when he mentions their names but there is also some apprehension. I haven't treated my friends well since I left LA. I still haven't gained the courage to pick up the phone and call them. I miss them but seeing them again will just remind me how shitty I've been these last few months.

I take a deep breath as I nod my head.

"I don't know how to say sorry to them. I should have called by now," I reply.

Peeta gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"We were all hurt when you left but they still care about you. Admitting you were wrong to cut off contact is a good place to start," he says.

I nod my head but begin chewing on my bottom lip. Johanna has always been blunt and won't be scared to tell me exactly how she feels. I've always been crap at talking about my feelings and I just hope that I can find a way to make things up to them.

Peeta squeezes my hand again and forces me to look at him.

"Stop thinking about it too much. Seeing your friends again should be the least nerve wracking thing about this week," he says.

"You're right," I say, nodding my head. "I should be able to enjoy tonight."

Peeta gives me a big smile and nods his head in agreement. At least I know he'll be there to support me.

The band all fawn over Peeta when we meet up and offer him their sincerest gratitude for everything he has done to promote the band. Even Haymitch and Castor grumble a couple of thank yous. I'm so glad that the band accept him so readily. In only a few months they've become like family to me and their approval means a lot.

The food is still good at the Italian restaurant but I spend most of the evening checking the door to see when Johanna and Gale will appear. A nervous knot appears in my stomach as I think about all the brutally honest things Johanna could say to me. My napkin lies in shreds as I use it to try and release my nervous tension.

Peeta notices me glancing at the door half way through and leans over to whisper in my ear.

"I said we'd meet at a bar across the street. Just relax," he says, placing a kiss on my temple.

I nod my head and eat the rest of my meal without looking at the door.

"I think it's time we get the check. I need some higher quality drink," Haymitch declares at the end of the meal.

He waves his hand at the waiter who scurries off to get the check. Both Peeta and Haymitch dig into their pockets at the same time to pull out their wallets.

"Oh no, boy," Haymitch says. "You're not paying for this one. You've done enough for us already."

"It's honestly no problem. I'm happy to pay," Peeta says, removing his credit card.

"No. I insist. We can't take any more money off you," Haymitch replies, placing his card down on the table

"But I want to pay. It's a thanks for inspiring me," Peeta says, pushing his card forward.

"I'm going to slap that card right out of your hand if you don't put it away. You're not the only one who's made money. I've got this and I'm not going to argue any further," Haymitch says.

Tigris and Roxy try to hide laughs as they watch this interaction unfold. I place a hand on Peeta's leg and shake my head at him.

"Haymitch is even more stubborn than I am. Let him pay," I say.

Peeta looks at me for a long moment before sighing and conceding defeat.

"Be my guest," he says, placing his credit card back in his wallet.

Haymitch smiles triumphantly as the waitress comes back with the check.

"You know the Prince Charming routine can get tiring after a while," Haymitch points out.

"If I'm Prince Charming what does that make you? The grumpy troll?" Peeta teases.

"I take it back. You're not charming at all," Haymitch replies.

Peeta grins and the rest of the band begin gathering up their things. Nothing more is said on the matter as we leave the restaurant.

Beetee and Tigris decide to go back to the hotel but the rest of us head to a cosy bar right across the street. It's half hidden in an alleyway and it was always a good place to hide from the paparazzi on nights out.

The bar is just getting busy when we enter and Haymitch and Pollux offer to get drinks while the rest of us squeeze into a leather booth. Wiress barely sits down before she jumps up and grabs Roxy's hand to go and dance. Cressida watches on with an appreciative smile as her girlfriend begins swaying her hips in time with the music. Peeta slides in next to me and slings an arm around my shoulder to keep me close.

"Finnick said they'd be here in ten minutes. Are you still nervous?" he asks.

I nod my head.

"It's silly, I know. But I care about what they think about me. I haven't made many friends in my life and I hate that I pushed them away," I reply.

Peeta nods his head in understanding and kisses my temple to try and reassure me.

I notice them as soon as they arrive in the bar. Most of the female eyes in the room turn to look at Finnick as they enter and camera phones are out moments later as people are eager to snap a picture of the hunky model/actor. Peeta waves them over and Finnick bounds over with a big grin on his face. I get up to greet him and he picks me up and twirls me around.

"Katniss! I missed you! Loving the new hair!" he declares.

I laugh as he puts me back down and tuck my shorter hair behind my ear.

"You haven't changed one bit. And congratulations on the Best Shirtless Performance Award," I say with a grin.

"What can I say? America knows a fine specimen of a man when it sees one," Finnick replies.

I laugh again before I turn to Gale. For some strange reason I was scared they would have all changed. Maybe because I feel like I've changed but Gale is still the exact same. His hair is still short and he is wearing a flannel I have seen a hundred times before.

"Glad to see becoming vegan hasn't turned you into a hippy," I say to him.

He smiles at me fondly before stepping in to give me a hug.

"Good to see you, Catnip. I need someone to help me buffer Jo," he says.

"Please, you crave my wit and sarcastic comments," Johanna says, stepping forward.

Her eyes flick over to me and she gives me a nod in greeting.

"So you finally came back. I really thought this time you had cut us out for good," she says.

I look down, embarrassed, and scuff the ground with my shoe. The truth is, I don't know if I would have ever got back in touch if Peeta hadn't found me. I had planned on putting my life here behind me.

"I'm sorry. I should have called," I say.

"No shit. We didn't have a fucking clue if you were okay and acted like desperate idiots trying to find you. But you didn't think we might miss you," she says.

Cressida and Castor stare at Johanna, unsure what to make of this blunt person who hasn't even introduced herself yet. I feel Peeta slide up next to me and he puts his arm around my waist. Johanna's eyes flick down to look at where his arm lies. She shakes her head.

"Peeta was always going to forgive you after a kiss but I'm tired of you running. You've down it twice now. Why should I bother with a friend I'm not even sure is going to stick around?" she asks.

"I don't deserve your friendship. I've been a shit friend but I love you all. Running is just my fucked up way of not dragging you into my messes," I reply.

Johanna softens slightly and lets out a sigh.

"But's that what friends are for. We're there for you when the shit hits the fan," she says.

"I know. And I'm sorry that I didn't let you in. I was selfish but I want to make up for it. Just name your price," I say.

Johanna stares at me for a long moment and I hold my breath as I wait for her answer. Slowly a smile spreads across her face and she shakes her head.

"You know that drinks and stories of how good Peeta is in bed is all I need. I guess I've always known you were brainless. I should have known you would have made a bad decision after those photos came out," she replies.

"You forgive me?" I ask.

Johanna smiles and nods her head.

"I forgive you. Now get me a drink and tell me about Peeta," she says.

She slides into the booth and I sit down next to her. Peeta takes a seat opposite with Gale and Finnick.

"Do I get a say in what information Katniss relinquishes to you about my sexual prowess?" Peeta asks.

Johanna grins and shakes her head.

"By the end of tonight, I'm going to know every tiny detail about you, Mellark," she replies.

Peeta laughs and shakes his head.

"Fine. But I'm telling Katniss all the romantic shit you've been doing with Blight," he says.

Johanna's eyes widen and she shakes her head furiously. I laugh.

"I heard you got a boyfriend. If I'm going to tell you everything about Peeta, you need to tell me everything about your guy," I say.

"Fine," Johanna grumbles. "But this is going to require even more drinks."

We all laugh and Johanna swipes a drink as soon as Haymitch and Pollux come over with a tray full of them. Haymitch looks a bit startled by my friend as she knocks back a drink without even asking but soon everyone settles in and lots of easy conversations spring up around the table. I find that I am fully able to relax for the first time since I touched down in LA.

* * *

The next couple of days are busy as we rehearse for Peeta's gallery opening and visit some of the tourist hotspots in LA. I barely see Peeta as he spends most of his day in the gallery, making sure everything is in the right place and putting the finishing touches to the portraits. But by Thursday he deems the gallery fit for our viewing. I know we will be the first people to see it and I can feel Peeta's nerves when he talks about it.

A hire car drives us to the entrance of the gallery but I cower back when I see the swarm of photographers standing outside, all desperate to get a glimpse of the paintings and the handsome artist inside. The tabloids have been filled with images of Peeta entering and leaving the gallery this week as people speculate the source of his latest inspiration.

"Whoa. I didn't realise your boyfriend was so popular, Kat," Cressida says as she spies the photographers.

I sink further down into my seat and place my hand over my face. This was part of the industry I hated before and it ultimately led to my downfall the last time. The press will do anything to get the story they want.

"Peeta said there's a back entrance if there were photographers outside. We can sneak in that way," Roxy suggests.

I nod my head as Cressida gives the driver instructions on how to get to the back. A feeling of nausea begins to float up through my chest and I don't dare look out the window as we drive past the front of the gallery.

The sick feeling disappears slightly when Peeta greets us with a big smile.

"Welcome, everybody," he says. "I just got everything finished last night. I hope you like it."

Members of the band mutter words of encouragement as they begin straining their necks to check out the paintings on the wall. This place used to be an old warehouse and a lot of the original brick work remains. Peeta's used this as the perfect backdrop for the portraits. Well placed windows and skylights bathe the room in natural light that enhances the images on the walls.

The portraits themselves are huge and each takes up an almost entire section of wall. We all start walking along the wooden floorboards with a look of awe as we take in the gigantic images of ourselves. Peeta follows nervously behind us, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for our thoughts.

"I didn't expect them to be so huge," Roxy says in wonder.

She reaches out a hand to touch the portrait of Cressida but she stops herself at the last moment and quickly withdraws it.

"Sorry. I don't want to ruin them," she says.

Peeta smiles at her kindly before he comes to stand beside her. The two of them look up at the portrait with a scrutinising eye.

"Don't worry about it. You won't ruin them. Does it scare you that they are so big?" Peeta asks.

Roxy shakes her head.

"No. It makes them more powerful. For so long many of us have hidden in the background. The scale of them just emphasises how we are no longer going to take being ignored," Roxy replies.

"So you like them?" Peeta asks.

Roxy nods as a smile spreads across her face.

"You've managed to capture every detail. Even that mole behind Cressida's ear," she says.

Peeta chuckles and they continue to stare at the painting for a moment longer. Cressida slides up to Roxy and slips her arms through hers. Roxy leans her head against Cressida's shoulder.

"He's captured you at your most beautiful," Roxy sighs.

Cressida smiles before placing a kiss on Roxy's head.

"Maybe his portrait of you will convince you that you are beautiful too," Cressida replies.

Roxy smiles in response before they turn to admire the portrait together. Peeta eventually leaves and wanders over to Pollux. With the help of Castor they manage to strike up a conversation about the paintings.

I meander my way through the gallery by myself, taking in every tiny detail Peeta has managed to capture. I've seen many of his sketches and paintings before but this is the first time I've seen them put together in a show. It amazes me just how well each portrait tells a story.

I hear his footsteps as I stand in front of the portrait of Tigris. The yellows and oranges in this portrait are the most vibrant making it stand out more than the rest.

"So what do you think?" Peeta asks as he comes to a stop beside me.

I turn to him with a smile before I reach up to kiss him on the lips. My fingers tangle in the blond hairs at the back of his neck and I feel him smile into the kiss as he wraps his arms around me. Eventually we break away just enough for Peeta to lean his forehead against mine. I continue to play with the hairs on the back of his neck as he smiles at me.

"They are that good, huh?" he says.

"You've manage to perfectly capture the essence of everyone," I reply, tilting my head to look up at him. "You've portrayed Wiress' happiness and Tigris' bashfulness. I think they are incredible."

Peeta lets out a sigh of relief before hugging me tight.

"I'm so glad you like them. Everything just seems to be falling together," he says.

I nod my head but the nauseous feeling returns to my chest. I'm reminded that in only two days' time I'll be thrust into the limelight again.

"I don't want to mess everything up for the band. They've come so far," I say.

Peeta frowns at me and pulls back slightly to get a better look at me.

"How would you mess things up?" he asks.

But he doesn't get an answer. Instead Cressida's voice floats through.

"You better not be fucking back there," she says as she comes round the corner.

I pull back from Peeta but he still looks at me in confusion. It's clear he's not going to let me forget my earlier comment. But with Cressida here now, he won't push it.

"Everything it very PG through here," I reply as Cressida approaches.

"I'm glad to hear it," she says. "Haymitch just called to tell us he's managed to snag us some extra rehearsal time. He wants us there in twenty minutes."

I nod my head in understanding and Peeta and I follow her back round to meet up with the rest of the band. Everyone quickly gathers their things and Peeta says goodbye with a soft kiss before we get back in the car.

Rehearsal is a lot of fun and we're really beginning to sound great. One of the best things about being in a band compared to a solo artist is there is far more silliness and laughter during rehearsals. Everyone supports and encourages each other and it's good to know that other people have my back.

I get a message from Peeta afterwards telling me he's going to be late as he's still stuck in interviews. I take the time to spend a period on my own. I've constantly been in the presence of other people since I've been back in LA and I need time to think. I hide out in my hotel room with PK, playing a game with him that involves catching a light, as I try to forget all about my worries.

Eventually Cressida, Roxy and Wiress come barging back into the room and Wiress drags me into the bathroom.

"We need to be quick. We don't have much time until Peeta gets here," she says.

"Why do we need to hurry? We're just going for dinner," I reply.

Roxy turns to me with a twinkle in her eye.

"You'll see," she says coyly.

I frown but don't get a chance to ask any more questions as I am told to strip and shoved in the shower. After I've showered Tigris appears to prod my face with make-up brushes while Roxy stands behind me to untangle the knots in my hair. Cressida and Wiress ransack my suitcase to find a suitable outfit to wear.

"I can dress myself, you know," I say.

Cressida turns to me with a smile.

"This isn't for you. It's for Peeta. To thank him for all the work he's done for us. And no offence, Kat, but if we left things to you, you would just wear jeans shorts and a t-shirt," Cressida replies.

I huff and slouch back in my chair.

"I don't like not knowing what is going on," I grumble.

The girls just share a smile before telling me to shut up and let them get on with their work.

Forty minutes later I am groomed to perfection and wearing a sunset orange dress with a high neckline that falls to mid-thigh. I run my hands over the material as I look at myself in the mirror.

"This is Peeta's favourite colour," I muse.

Wiress smiles at me as she comes up to put on some simple gold earrings.

"I know. He told me. He's going to love you in this dress!" she exclaims.

I smile at her gratefully before turning to thank the rest of the girls. Wiress then picks up my hand to lead me out of the room and to some secret destination. We meet Peeta at the bottom of some stairs and he looks handsome in a pale blue shirt and beige slacks that hug his ass in all the right places. His eyes light up in awe when he sees me and he rushes over to me to give me a kiss.

"You look beautiful," he says once he's pulled away.

I smile shyly at him and reach down to take his hands.

"Do you know what is going on?" I ask.

"Not a clue. Beetee just called to say the band have a surprise for me," he replies.

I sigh, still frustrated that things are not any clearer. All the rest of the band are here too and Pollux gestures with his hand for us to follow them up the stairs. Peeta and I follow closely behind while the band keep throwing us secretive smiles. I get impatient as we climb the stairs.

Eventually we reach a door at the top and Pollux pushes it open so we can go out on to the roof. Peeta and I gasp in surprise when we see what they have done for us.

The roof of the hotel has been transformed. Small white lights have been strung up around the decking area and dozens of candles of varying heights circle round a small round table in the centre. Rose petals are scattered on the ground and a bottle of champagne waits on ice. Platters of food sit on the table alongside two tall candles. It's beautiful.

Cressida smiles at us excitedly as she comes over to us.

"We wanted to thank you, Peeta, for everything that you've done for the band. The portraits are incredible and we wouldn't be in LA right now if it wasn't for you. You have a good heart and we wanted to do something to thank you. When we tried to think what to get you, we realised the only thing you really want is Katniss. So we did this for you both," Cressida explains.

Peeta shakes his head in disbelief.

"You didn't need to do this. I should be thanking you for giving me the inspiration," he replies.

"Just shut up and accept our gift. We could stand here all day arguing you needs to thank who," Castor says.

Peeta and I turn to each other with a smile.

"Thank you," Peeta says. "This is perfect."

The band all beam in pride and then turn to walk back down the stairs.

"Enjoy your evening," Beetee says as she walks past.

Peeta and I smile again as we watch the band leave and promise to see them tomorrow. Pollux is the last to leave and finally we are alone together. We stand staring at each other for a moment before either of us speak.

"You really didn't know anything about this?" Peeta asks.

"No," I say shaking my head. "I'm just as surprised as you are."

We smile again before we walk over to the small table. Peeta pulls out my chair for me before turning to pop and pour the champagne. Once he's filled both glasses he sits down and we raise our glasses to clink them together. We take a sip and Peeta smiles back at me.

"You know our first kiss was on a roof," Peeta says. "I think I'm beginning to like them."

I laugh.

"I suppose this means we should get married on a rooftop as well," I reply.

Peeta raises his eyebrow at me.

"So we're getting married now? I didn't realise I had proposed," he says with a cheeky grin.

I blush and look down at my lap.

"I didn't mean it like that," I reply.

Peeta chuckles and then I feel him reach across to take my hand. I look up at him as his fingers slip through mine. He smiles at me when I look up.

"I know exactly what you meant. We'll take things in our own time," he says.

I relax and smile back at him.

"You mean a lot to me, you know that?" I say.

"I know. And the band were right when they said the only thing I want is you. I just want to spend every possible moment with you," he replies.

Normally words like this freak me out. I've never been one for commitment but for the first time I see my future with another person. I may not have found the courage to tell him I love him but I've been falling slowly for him from the moment I met him.

"Things are going to get crazy after the gallery opening. I'll be back in the public eye again. I'm scared that's going to affect me. Affect us," I admit.

Peeta looks concerned and squeezes my hand tight.

"Is that what is worrying you? The press and what they will say?" he asks.

"The press didn't exactly like me the last time they wrote about me. I don't want that ruining you or the band," I say.

"Katniss, everyone has already forgotten about those photos. There have been so many other stories since then. Your past isn't going to ruin me or the band," he says.

"That's not true. It's always going to be brought up whenever something is written about me. I've liked being anonymous these last few months. I'm not sure if I can handle dealing with the press again. It's burned me too much already," I admit.

Peeta gets off his chair and comes to crouch down in front of me. He grasps both of my hands tightly in his.

"You love to sing? You love performing with the band?" he asks.

I nod my head in agreement. The last few months have been some of the best in my life. I've always enjoyed singing but performing with the band has been something even better. We just have so much fun and our songs mean something.

"Then that's all that matters. The press sucks but you learn how to cope. And you aren't going to go through it alone. You've got me and the band," he says passionately.

I smile at him and reach out to brush a strand of hair off his face. This is the price I have to pay for doing what I love. I'm never going to like it but Peeta's right. I'm not in it alone.

"Thank you," I say.

Peeta smiles, relieved that he's managed to placate me for now. He reaches up to kiss me firmly on the lips. I wrap my arms around his neck and force my worries out my head.

Eventually he pulls back and gets up to serve us some food. I laugh as he puts on a French accent and pretends to be some fancy pants French waiter. He has always known the best ways to cheer me up.

The night on the roof is close to perfect. We gorge ourselves on the delicious food and then spend some time looking up at the stars as I sit with my back pressed against Peeta's front on a small picnic rug. We feed each other strawberries and then kiss away all the juices that dribble down our chins. We end the night with my back against the floor and Peeta's head between my legs as I desperately try to bite back my moans.

We walk back down the stairs with our hands swinging between us and dopey smiles on our faces. When we get back to my hotel room we find a note on the door from Wiress saying she is sleeping in Tigris' room tonight. Peeta smiles at me suggestively as I open the door. He takes my head in his hands and presses me back against the door before I have even had time to drop the key card on the table.

"You only just gave me an orgasm twenty minutes ago," I say as Peeta begins planting kisses on my neck.

"Which means I am due you at least three more," he says as he reaches up to grope my breast over my dress.

I let out a content sigh as Peeta's hands begin to dance over my body. I quickly lose myself in his gentle caresses and hot kisses. But I'm abruptly broken out of my trance by the sound of my phone. I'd left it here while we were on the roof and reluctantly push Peeta off me to go and answer it.

"Don't answer it now," Peeta whines as he wraps his arms around me from behind. "It can wait."

"It might be important," I reply trying to ignore his kisses on my neck.

When I pick up my phone I see I have a new message. My blood runs cold when I see the identity of the caller. Cashmere. With a rapidly beating heart I open the message. My heart stops at the sight of it.

 _I know you're in LA_

* * *

 **A/N: Just time for one last drama before the end! The next chapter will be the last. I hope you enjoy how it all ends. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14

 _Peeta_

I let out an exasperated sigh as I see a worker almost knock one of the paintings on the wall.

"Careful!" I say as I rush towards him. "This light doesn't even go here. The light is too yellow."

The young man blushes and looks down at his toes as he struggles to carry the silver light fitting.

"Sorry, Mr Mellark. First day on the job," the man mumbles.

I soften slightly and place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Take the light to the lobby. The man in charge will tell you were to put it," I say kindly.

The young man nods his head gratefully before wobbling towards the front of the building. I wince when I see him almost drop the hundred dollar light fitting on the floor.

Eventually he disappears out of sight and I let out a heavy sigh. Hundreds of people rush about, many barking orders, as the final preparations for tonight's opening take place. The place is a mess with paint brushes and boxes of champagne glasses lying everywhere. The opening starts in three hours and it seems like we'll never be ready.

I bend down to scoop up a paint splattered sheet and move it away. But when I straighten back up I see Plutarch's rosy cheeks and bright yellow hair approaching towards me. I sigh at the sight.

"Peeta! It's all coming together!" Plutarch exclaims.

"The tables for the catering haven't even arrived, there is still dust everywhere and people keep trying to sneak looks at the paintings, but apart from that everything is going swimmingly," I reply sarcastically.

"I'll get someone to order you a coffee," Plutarch says as he turns to click his fingers at one of his assistants. "You need a caffeine hit."

I let out a weary sigh as I run a hand through my curls.

"Sorry to be a grump, Plutarch. All this chaos isn't helping my nerves," I say.

Plutarch looks at me sympathetically before something pings on his tablet and he looks down to read the message. A smile spreads across his face as he does.

"Well I've got good news. The feedback from the latest song teaser has hit the roof. It's had over ten million views in twenty-four hours. That's unheard of for a new band!" Plutarch says. "You're whole marketing campaign has been genius. I couldn't have done a better job myself."

"I just hope it all lives up to the hype," I reply.

"I have no doubt it will," Plutarch says before leaning in closer to me. "You're really not going to let me have a sneaky peek at the paintings? I'm dying to discover their identity!"

"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise," I say coyly.

Plutarch huffs but he doesn't get a chance to question me further as my cell phone starts ringing from my pocket. Cressida's name flashes up on my screen and my chest tightens at the sight.

"Hi, Cressida," I answer. "Is everything alright?"

"Peeta, she's refusing to come to the opening tonight. She's locked herself in the bathroom and won't come out," Cressida replies worriedly.

"I thought we sorted this last night. I thought we convinced her performing was the best thing for the band," I say.

"You haven't seen the latest story? Your sister released a piece today about how she was worried that her stepdaughter has left rehab early and is concerned what trouble she will get into next," Cressida replies.

"That's complete crap," I say.

"I know, Peeta. But this isn't the first story this week," Cressida replies.

I sigh heavily as I tangle my fingers in my hair. I turn way from Plutarch and wander off to find some privacy. I've had this conversation too many times in the last forty-eight hours.

Ever since Cashmere sent Katniss that text message, Katniss has freaked out. She's worried that her presence in the band is going to ruin things for them. My sister hasn't helped the matter by sending paparazzi to follow Katniss these last two days. By Friday morning pictures of Katniss back in LA were all over the internet. The stories that caused Katniss to flee in the first place resurfaced and the talk shows debate why she is back in LA. A story has been spread that Katniss was in rehab all this time and Katniss broke down in tears when one late night chat show host made a joke about her supposed drug use. I spent all of last night convincing her she should still perform tonight but it looks like those were wasted hours.

"I'm on my way now. I can't believe Cashmere is still pulling this shit," I sigh.

"She's got into Katniss' head. She's a master manipulator," Cressida replies.

I nod my head.

"It will all come crashing down one day and my sister is going to end up bitter and alone," I say.

Cressida agrees and we say our goodbyes before we hang up. I tell Plutarch I'm heading out for a bit before I rush out to my car.

Fifteen minutes later I pull into the hotel car park and bound up the stairs to Katniss' room. Cressida, Roxy and Wiress sit in the room and throw me worried looks when I enter. PK prowls along the bathroom door, stopping every now and again to paw and meow at the door. Wiress gets off the bed to come over to me.

"I even offered her some Skittles but she refuses to come out," Wiress says.

I smile sadly at her before turning my attention to the bathroom door. A thin strip of light escapes from the bottom of the door. Taking a deep breath, I step towards the door and raise my fist to knock on it.

"Katniss? It's Peeta," I say.

There is silence for a moment before I hear movement and suddenly the lock of the door pops open. PK darts in the room but Katniss doesn't open the door to welcome me in. I gingerly push the door as I peek inside.

Katniss sits curled up, fully clothed, in the bathtub. PK jumps up onto the tub and the curls into her lap. She barely acknowledges him as he rubs up against her.

"I'm not performing tonight. You can't make me," she says.

I close the door behind me and sit down beside the bath.

"That story is complete trash and you know it. Stop using it as an excuse to not do something you are scared about," I say.

"It's not an excuse!" Katniss says, her eyes flying with indignation. "I'm doing what is best for the band. No record company is going to sign a band that has a member with a reputation of drug abuse."

"What happened to the girl I met that didn't care what the tabloids wrote about her? Most of the internet trolls are just lonely people with nothing better to do," I say.

"Reality hit, Peeta. This business is all about image. I won't ruin the band or your night with my sordid reputation," Katniss replies.

I get up onto my knees and turn to face Katniss fully in the bath. Anger and frustration become clear on my face.

"The only thing that is going to ruin this night for me is you not going," I say.

Katniss goes silent and looks away from my stare. She looks down at PK as she scratches his head.

"Emotional blackmail won't work, Peeta," she mumbles.

"It's not emotional blackmail. I'm just telling you the truth," I reply.

Katniss finally raises her eyes to look at me again. She see the serious look on my face and slowly her shoulders slump forward in defeat.

"I'll go," she says. "If it makes you happy, I'll go."

I let out a relieved sigh as I slump against the bathtub. I reach into the tub and give Katniss' hand a gentle squeeze. She squeezes my hand back and gives me a small smile. It's the biggest win I've had since Cashmere's message came through.

* * *

When I finally re-enter my gallery, half an hour before the doors open, the place has been transformed. Every trace of mess and dust has vanished and the sheets removed from the paintings. Long tables are covered in pristine white table cloths and hundreds of sparkling champagne glasses. Smart waiters in bow ties stand holding shiny platters filled with delicate canapés. I take a moment to bask in the finished product. The exposed brick walls are the perfect backdrop for the striking portraits of the people I've grown to love these past few months.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and when I scramble to get it I see it is a message from Thresh telling me he's sorry he and Rue couldn't get out for the opening. Rue finally conceded and agreed to start a family with my best friend but her morning sickness has been pretty brutal. I type out a quick reply, stating I hope Rue feels better and that there will be free tickets for when they decide to come out.

I am stuffing my phone back in my pocket when I hear the clacking of high heels across the wooden floors. I turn round to find Katniss smiling at me. She's wearing a figure hugging, sparkly green dress with long sleeves and high neckline. The dress falls to mid-thigh and shows off her toned legs and her dark hair has been straightened into a sleek bob. I can't stop the smile as she steps into my arms.

"You look beautiful," I say once I've leaned into to place a soft kiss on her lips.

"I'm sorry I threw a strop earlier. Seeing the gallery again has reminded me how much I want to share this night with you," she says.

"You're forgiven," I say, squeezing her close to me. "Besides, I need to make sure there is someone here that will eat all the canapes."

Katniss scowls and elbows me in the ribs but I just chuckle and pull her even closer to me. I bend down to give her a deeper kiss. I feel her relax into me and she reaches a hand up to lock my head into place. I love this girl so much and am so glad she's here to celebrate this night with me.

As we pull back I think about telling her the three words I've been too scared to say again but as soon as I open my mouth Johanna, Finnick and Gale walk in.

"Peeta, you have lipstick all over your face," Johanna says once she reaches us.

Katniss laughs and I hastily wipe the lipstick off my face. Johanna rolls her eyes before craning her neck round to look at the paintings on the wall.

"Impressive," she says. "Some might even be better than my photos."

I chuckle and shake my head.

"Your photos are something special. You fancy showing some here sometime?" I ask.

Johanna snaps her head round to look at me and raises an eyebrow.

"You're serious?" she asks.

I nod my head.

"I didn't just open this gallery to show off my own work. I want to showcase new and undiscovered artists. I'd think you would be perfect," I say.

Johanna tries to act nonchalant about it but I can see the excitement in her eyes. It must be tiring only getting paid for baby and wedding photos.

"I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement," Johanna replies.

I grin at her and Katniss and Gale laugh. Finnick comes over to me to give me a slap on the back.

"I'm proud of you, bro. I still think your next show should just be a series of portraits of my abs. Give the people what they want," he says.

"I'll keep that in mind," I reply.

Gale shakes his head at him.

"And you wonder why you can't get yourself a serious girlfriend. If you keep showing off your physical features, you're only going to get silly, shallow girls," Gale says.

"Just because you managed to get the Mayor of London's daughter to go out with you, doesn't make you an expert," Finnick says turning to face our tall friend.

"I keep telling you, you are playing it all wrong. Listen to my advice tonight and I'll get you a date with a nice girl," Gale says.

"Let's see what you got then," Finnick says.

He strains his neck to check out the females already in the gallery. His eyes fall on a busty blonde waitress and he raises his eyebrows at Gale.

"What about that one?" Finnick asks, jerking his thumb in the blonde's direction.

Gale sighs and shakes his head.

"Nope. Definitely not. Probably an actress waiting to be discovered," Gale says.

He then turns his head to look around the room. His eyes fall on a petite girl with wavy auburn hair. She has an almost whimsical look about her. She holds a clipboard and I think I recognise her as one of Plutarch's assistants.

"That's the type of girl you should be going after," Gale says.

Finnick raises his eyebrows in surprise but nods his head in agreement.

"Okay. I trust you. Tell me what to do next," Finnick says.

Gale steps closer to Finnick, putting a hand on his shoulder as they both turn to look in the direction of the girl. The lean their heads together as Gale begins whispering words of advice to Finnick.

Katniss and I turn away from them and focus on Johanna. She shakes her head before grabbing a glass of champagne that goes past. She takes a long pull of it before speaking to us.

"I hear you almost bailed on us tonight, brainless. You'll need to tell me what Peeta did to convince you," she says.

Katniss snuggles in closer to me and looks up at me fondly.

"I was being an idiot. I almost let Cashmere ruin this night," she says.

"I'm glad you sucked it up," Johanna says. She then takes another sip of her drink as she ponders something. "Do you think she'll show up tonight? She doesn't like to be snubbed."

"Security know to keep an eye out for her," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. "I'm just sad it's come to this. A year ago she would have been the first person on the invite list."

Katniss gives my waist a squeeze as she gives me a sympathetic smile.

"She's the one that is missing out. You were a better brother than she deserved," she says.

I smile gratefully at her and place a kiss on the side of her head. When I pull back, the assistant that Gale picked out for Finnick comes over to us. She smiles at me kindly as she looks up from her clipboard.

"You ready for the doors to open, Mr Mellark?" she asks.

I take a deep breath and turn to look at Katniss. She gives me a reassuring smile and it's enough to give me the confidence to open the doors.

"It's now or never," I say, turning back to the assistant.

The assistant smiles at me broadly as she nods her head and then turns as she speaks into her radio. Katniss reaches up to give me a quick kiss on the lips, before slipping out of my grasp and rushing back to meet up with the rest of the band.

With her gone some of my nerves reappear and I take nervous steps towards the door. As soon as they open the sound of excited chatter filters through. As the guests enter they twist and turn their heads to catch glimpses of the paintings on the wall. Soon sounds of delight and awe fill the room. Johanna sidles up next to me.

"Go knock them dead," she says with a smile.

* * *

The first forty-five minutes pass in a blur as the guests arrive and begin filling up the space. Crowds soon gather round the portraits and I watch as people discuss the people in them. I am only left alone for five minutes before the first admirer comes up to tell me how excited they are to see my work.

A lot of people are stunned that the people in the portraits could be in a band. They are not the type of faces people see in LA. I get asked lots of questions about the band and how I found them. I don't give away too much, not until the band comes out on stage anyway. I want their music to do their talking for them.

Eventually everyone arrives and I tell the assistant from earlier to go and get the band. After seeing the initial positive response of my paintings, I am anxious for the band to do well too. Plutarch comes up to me while I wait for the band and pats a hand on my shoulder.

"Splendid, my boy! The pictures are very intriguing. I can't believe you found them!" he exclaims.

"Literally just stumbled across them," I reply.

Plutarch bobs his head before leaning in closer to me with a smile.

"Of course the portrait of Katniss has got most people talking. And you told me you hadn't seen her in months," Plutarch says.

"What can I say, Plutarch?" I say with a smile. "It was just a tiny white lie."

Plutarch barks out a laugh and pulls away from me.

"I should have known Katniss was involved somehow. I haven't seen you smile so much since she left," he says. "I can't wait to see her later tonight."

I thank Plutarch and then his assistant comes back and tells me the band are about to come on stage. I nod my head, say a temporary goodbye to Plutarch and head towards the stage.

I spy Katniss and the band standing in the wings as I clamber up and flash them a smile before turning back to face the audience. Plutarch's assistant hands me a microphone and I clear my throat to gain everyone's attention. Slowly the chatter in the room begins to fade as all eyes turn to face me.

"Thank you all for coming out tonight. The opening of the gallery has been a labour of love for me for the last year and it is so great to finally open and share it all with you," I begin.

Finnick lets out a large whoop and I see the assistant shake her head at him. A small smile spreads across my face before I concentrate back on my speech.

"However, tonight almost didn't happen. Six months ago I had serious artist's block. I couldn't put anything down on canvas. My inspiration had died. That is until I went to stay with some friends in Tennessee. They took me to this bar and told me about this amazing band."

"I wasn't entirely convinced this band were going to be great. I mean my friend does own The Backstreet Boys greatest hits."

I pause to allow for the ripple of laughter.

"But this was one of the times he was right. The band had the whole place hooked within twenty seconds and I had never seen a group of people like it," I carry on.

"In LA we are so used to seeing the same type of people. Polished. Shiny. Fake. And this band of people were a breath of fresh air. They don't have perfect teeth or perfectly proportioned faces but when I met them, they were the most interesting bunch of people I have ever come across."

"Their songs have important messages about loving yourself and celebrating differences. Success shouldn't be built on your appearance but on your talent. And that's what I want to prove to you tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, let me welcome onto stage, Revolution!"

I step aside and stick my hand out to beckon the band on stage. The audience begin applauding as they step out. Cressida smiles at me broadly as I hand her the microphone and pull her in for a hug. The rest of the band settle into their places as Cressida turns to face the crowd.

"We're excited to play for y'all tonight! We're Revolution and this is our song _Careers_!" she exclaims.

The strums of Wiress' banjo begin to fill the room before Castor and Beetee join in with the guitar and keyboards. The whole place goes silence when Katniss steps forward to sing. I watch with bated breath to see how the often pretentious art crowd respond to the music.

But as Roxy and Cressida join in with the chorus I notice the sway of the audience's shoulders. Encouraged by shouts of delight from Johanna and Finnick the crowd become less rigid and slowly immerse themselves with the music. Champagne glasses are forgotten as everyone focuses on the people on stage and smiles spread across everyone's faces. I finally let myself relax when Plutarch throws me a wide smile as he bobs enthusiastically along.

There is just a momentarily pause once the first song is finished as the audience let the music sink in but then the whole place erupts into rapturous applause. Roxy and Castor look out in disbelief at the crowd's reaction and I raise my hand to my mouth to release whoops of delight. Katniss flashes a glance in my direction and we share a proud smile.

Cressida soon quietens the crowd as she announces the next song and Roxy steps up to take the lead vocals. It takes less time for the audience to respond to this song and it is amusing to watch some prissy art types try to keep in time with the music. There are even more cheers after this song finishes and then the lights dim as Katniss moves centre stage to perform _Falling Slowly_ with Castor on acoustic guitar. The goosebumps appear on my skin as soon as she locks eyes and sings the song directly to me.

 _Falling slowly,_

 _Hardly notice,_

 _Til I've fallen deep._

My heart swells with love for her as the audience become entrance by the sound. I need to tell her tonight how I really feel. It can't wait any longer. But then suddenly all the lights cut out and there is a screech from Katniss' microphone. There are sounds of alarm from the guests and the backstage staff frantically scramble about behind me to sort out the problem. However it doesn't take long for the source of the problem to be revealed. All the lights suddenly flash on, momentarily blinding the guests before the sounds of expensive high heeled shoes clack across the stage. My gaze hardens when I see Cashmere striding on.

"This is what happens when you let amateurs perform," Cashmere states as she turns to face the crowd.

She wears a black dress that screams for attention. The deep v goes all the way down to her navel and the whole of the back of the dress has been cut away. Her golden locks tumble down past her shoulders and the ruby red lipstick demands notice. She catches my eye and gives me a smug smile. My shoulders tense as a result.

"It's so great to see you all tonight. My baby brother has done well. And I'm so glad that I could help him get here," Cashmere says.

The whole place is silent, stunned by who has appeared on stage.

"Peeta wouldn't have got here if it wasn't for me. You should have seen him when he was studying in Paris. He refused to take any more money from our dear old dad and was living in this hovel with rats and a one legged prostitute. He did life modelling to pay for rent!" Cashmere exclaims.

My eyes go wide in mortification. She flashes me a hard glare as she carries on speaking.

"I was the one that paid for his paints while he stayed in Paris. I was the one that offered him a home when he came back to LA. I was the one that used _my_ contacts to get his first show commissioned. Peeta Mellark, the artist, wouldn't exist if it wasn't for me," she says.

She doesn't mention all the things I have done for her over the years. The album covers I've painted. The performances I've booked at my previous art shows. The tabloid stories I've quashed to maintain her image. We've both used each other for gain but I haven't needed her in a long time.

"So let's forget about this bunch of misfits. I'm the real inspiration and it's time for me to take the centre stage," Cashmere says with a smirk.

I shake my head and Katniss throws daggers at her as Cashmere grabs the microphone out of her hand. The guests are too stunned to react as Cashmere takes centre stage. But Cashmere doesn't get a chance to sing as Wiress steps out from the shadows.

"No one wants to hear you sing. This is Peeta's night, not yours," she states determinedly.

Cashmere laughs, amused by the frizzy haired person in front of her but the laughter soon dies from her lips as she turns to the guests and sees their stony glares. Many shake their heads and a few shout out.

"Get off the stage."

"We don't want you."

Cashmere frantically scans the crowd for support but finds none. Her eyes grow wide in despair as she catches sight of the president of Snow records. He just gives her a small shake of the head to let her know he's discarding her for good. I march on stage, grab her arm and drag her off stage. The crowd begin to murmur behind me and I then hear Cressida step forward to distract them with another song. It's an upbeat number that causes the guests to instantly forget the drama that has just unfolded.

I find a quiet room and throw away Cashmere's arm in disgust once we've entered it.

"My opinion of you keeps getting lower and lower," I say bitterly.

"I am the star of the family. I found fame first. You would do well to remember that," Cashmere replies.

"I don't want to be famous! It doesn't mean anything! But you forgot that a long time ago," I declare.

Cashmere shakes her head at me before there is a small knock on the door and Katniss pushes it open to enter. Cashmere scoffs as she sees her and shakes her head.

"You've ruined everything. Stole my career. My headlines. Even turned my brother against me," she says.

Katniss shakes her head as she walks towards Cashmere.

"You did that yourself. I think you did love him once but you don't know how to any more. You came here to ruin this night for him because you can't bare the fact he's still successful while your career is falling. I watched you use my father. I won't watch you use Peeta too," she says.

"You can't do anything to me. I'm cleverer than you," Cashmere states.

Katniss sighs.

"And yet you can't see how your behaviour is destroying you. Your diva like antics and jealousies are what are ruining you, not me. And certainly not Peeta. If you want to have any dignity after tonight leave now," Katniss says.

Katniss wears a steely expression and stares Cashmere down. Cashmere looks at Katniss in disbelief before she slowly shakes her head.

"You'll never be as famous as me," Cashmere says.

She picks up the end of her dress as she begins walking out the room, bumping Katniss purposefully on her way past. Katniss turns to her just as she reaches the door.

"You can pack your bags when you get home. I want my house back and I can afford a pretty good lawyer," Katniss says.

Cashmere's eyes fly with indignation but she can't come up with a cutting response so just huffs and storms out the room. Katniss turns to me immediately after Cashmere slams the door and walks towards me with worried look.

"Are you alright? I thought she meant to humiliate me. I'm sorry that it was you instead," she says.

I let a smile cross my face as Katniss puts her arms around my neck and brushes a curl behind my ear. I circle my arms around her waist as she looks at me confused by my positive reaction.

"That was pretty hot watching you stand up to my sister," I say, lowering my head to rest it against hers.

Katniss laughs as she plays with the curls at the base of my neck.

"She just made me so angry for ruining your night," she replies.

"She didn't ruin my night," I say.

Katniss smiles at me softly before I swoop down to place a kiss on her lips. Her fingers immediately tighten their grip on my curls and my heart swells with love. I feel the words on the tip of my tongue and pull back to look at her.

"Katniss, I…" I begin.

But I get interrupted by the door bursting open and Plutarch, Haymitch and some other woman I don't know barging in.

"We found you!" Haymitch declares. "I appreciate that you both still have your clothes on."

Katniss scowls at him as she tucks herself into my side.

"What do you want, Haymitch?" she demands.

He raises his eyebrows at her tone but it is Plutarch that steps forward to explain.

"I'm so sorry about that unfortunate incident with your sister, Peeta, but it is already been forgotten. Everyone is raving about your paintings and the band's music!" he says.

"Thanks. I'm glad to hear it," I reply.

Plutarch smiles widely at me before stepping aside to introduce the dark skinned woman with short dark hair.

"Katniss, this is Laura Paylor from Paylor Records. She wants to sign the band," Plutarch says.

Katniss looks to Haymitch in surprise but he just nods his head in confirmation. Katniss then turns her head to look at Paylor and steps forward to shake her hand.

"Congratulations on a great show. I'm glad to say the hype behind this band has more than lived up to our expectations. I know Snow Records are interested but we would like to think we are a better fit. We look for artists with authentic sounds that don't need to auto-tuned and synthesised," Paylor says.

"I don't exactly have good experience with Snow Records," Katniss replies.

"I'd hoped you'd say that," Paylor says with a smile.

Haymitch grins broadly as he walks over.

"Shot gun telling the rest of the band," he replies.

Katniss' grin widens and bobs her head excitedly.

"We can't sign anything without their complete agreement and reading through the contract but this is great news," Katniss replies.

Haymitch nods his head in agreement as the two of the turn to walk out the room. Paylor follows closely behind leaving Plutarch and me alone. He comes up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"The band deserve it. And you did everything you could to help them," he says.

"I'm already living my dream. I want to help others to achieve theirs," I reply.

Plutarch smiles as he nods his head.

"You've never been about the money or the fame. It's why you've always been my favourite," he says.

"I'll remember that the next time you are annoyed with me," I say.

Plutarch laughs and then sighs as he turns back to look at me.

"Well I better get back to work. I need to plan a way to make sure your relationship with Katniss stays private. Or should I just organise a joint appearance on Caesar Flickerman tomorrow night?" he says jokily.

I laugh as I shake my head.

"Thanks for all you've done for me Plutarch. You're a manager who actually has a heart," I reply.

"That means a lot coming from you," he says.

We share a smile before going out to re-join the rest of the party. I see the band all jumping about, hugging each other as Paylor talks to them with a broad smile. Mr Snow looks livid and disappears out the building a few minutes later. I watch on with a smile as I let them savour the moment.

I don't get much peace though as Finnick rushes up to me looking a little frazzled.

"How do you do it, Peet? How did you wait months to convince Katniss to go out with you? Annie is the first girl to refuse a date with me!" he exclaims.

"Annie?" I ask, raising my eyebrow at him.

"Plutarch's assistant. The one Gale picked out. She said she was too busy to go out with me!" he says.

I laugh as I shake my head at him. I pat him sympathetically on the back.

"Welcome to the real world, where you need more than a smile to get a date," I say.

Finnick huffs before he begins rambling on about the girl who refused him a date. I'm not used to seeing him so flustered and I think maybe this is the time he puts his womanising ways behind him.

Katniss and I don't bump into each other for the rest of the night. I have art people to schmooze and she's busy celebrating with the band. I know this is part of my job but I can't help miss her as I navigate the gallery without her.

Eventually I find her at the food table, gorging herself on mini bruschettas.

"I should have known I would have found you here. Your stomach is always grumbling," I say.

Katniss looks sheepish as she turns and wipes crumbs off her mouth. I walk up to her and put my arms around her. She immediately relaxes into me.

"I haven't eaten since lunch. You know I get grouchy when I don't get fed," she pouts.

I laugh as I reach out the wipe away a stray crumb on her top lip. Her eyes darken when my thumb lingers on the corner of her mouth. My heart tightens at the sight and my earlier feelings for her resurface.

"I love you," I blurt out.

Katniss looks a little taken aback by my blunt declaration and I let go of her to run an agitated hand through my hair.

"Ah, shit. I didn't mean it to come out like that. It's just I've wanted to tell you for so long and just couldn't hold it in any longer," I ramble.

Katniss stands looking at me silently for a moment and I grow nervous I've over stepped the mark. But slowly a smile begins to spread across her face and she takes a step towards. She reaches out to finger the lapel of my grey suit jacket before twisting her head up to look at me.

"No. That was perfect. I don't want flowery declarations of love," she says simply.

I let a sigh of relief as I allow myself to put my arms around her again.

"So I'm forgiven?" I ask.

But Katniss doesn't answer my question.

"Peeta," she says. "I love you too."

* * *

 **A/N: So we've reached the end of another adventure. I hope you have enjoyed it. Click on the next chapter for a very brief epilogue. I've uploaded it tonight at well.**

 **Thanks to everyone that has favourited/followed and reviewed the story. You keep me motivated!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Here's the very short epilogue. I know people will have wanted more but it's how I want to end the story. Hopefully you will be happy with all the happy endings.**

* * *

Epilogue

 _Breaking News_

 _Revolution storm the Grammys!_

"What a night for Revolution! They picked up an amazing five awards at the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards. The Tennessee native band won the awards for Best Country duo/group performance, best country song, best country album and the coveted Best Song and Best Album awards. They add these awards to their previous two Grammys they won for their debut album in 2017. Their haul of awards firmly cements then in American music history."

"Revolution have had an upward trajectory over the last five years. Their unique country sound and quirky style has endeared itself to the American public and beyond. In the last three years they have become the most internationally successful country band with over 30 million album sales worldwide. It looks like there is no stopping this band at the moment!"

"All eight members of the band were in attendance to pick up their awards. Bass player, Cressida Jones, thanked the fans and took the moment to promote acceptance and inclusion. She said, ' _Five years ago we couldn't get a record deal because we were bald, lesbian, insomniac and apparently just not quite right in the head. All our lives we've had people telling us things we can't do because we are different. We need to stop that bullshit talking. Prejudice still exists and we all need to stand to tackle the issue head on!'"_

"Anti-prejudice was a theme of their passionate performance earlier in the night. The band came on stage wearing white t-shirts with all the derogatory names they have been called over the years. Images of members of the public, wearing similar t-shirts, were flashed across the big screens as the band played their latest hit, _Sticks and Stones_. The performance was well received with recently engaged Hollywood actor, Finnick Odair, seen dancing enthusiastically along with his new fiancée, Annie Cresta."

"There was plenty to celebrate for the band at the end of the night. Clutching their five golden awards they were the star attraction at Paylor Records after party. They spent the night posing for photos and dropping some moves on the dance floor. Wiress was even seen challenging a certain new teen pop star to a dance off while brothers, Castor and Pollux, were snapped teaching a famous reality star a few chords on the guitar!"

"But it wasn't just the five awards they were celebrating last night. Lead singer, Katniss Everdeen, arrived at the event with her beau, contemporary artist, Peeta Mellark. The handsome couple were all smiles and kisses as they posed on the red carpet with their new matching gold wedding bands. While the couple were coy when exactly they tied the knot it is believed to have happened in the last month at the home they own in Tennessee. No further details were provided but Revolution's manager, Haymitch Abernathy, said it was the happiest wedding he has ever been too."

"Last night marks the start of a busy year for the band. They can next be seen at a fundraising concert next week with all proceeds going to anti-bullying and LGBT charities. They then have a short break before embarking on a seventy date world tour. The band say they are already working on new material but a new album is not going to be rushed out. Let's hope we don't have to wait too long for the next one!"

"In other news the line-up for new reality show _Jungle Survival_ has been announced. Former popstar, Cashmere Diamond, has been confirmed to be heading into the jungle where it is said celebrities will compete in various challenges including eating bugs and climbing trees to win prizes of food and water…"


End file.
